


The Darkness Just Lets Us See

by imaginaryturtles



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon Queer Character, F/F, Genderswap, M/M, POV Third Person, Recreational Drug Use, Rule 63, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 85,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginaryturtles/pseuds/imaginaryturtles
Summary: In a parallel universe not far from this one, Isak is Isra, a girl whose just trying to survive school without outing herself to everyone she loves. In this universe, Even is Evanna, a girl whose just merely existing, not living. In this world, they still meet in the bathroom.This is their story.(an Isak-and-Evan as girls story. Season 3 starts @ chapter 7.)





	1. Turn On the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Isak and Evan are both girls. However, many of the characters remain unchanged. In addition to these two, the only characters that will change are those that must change out of complete, absolute necessity (namely, Sonja and Emma). Little details will be changed according.
> 
> This will mainly follow the plotline of the first three seasons of Skam; at this time, I’m unsure of whether or not this story will continue past that point. 
> 
> I've filled in a bit of backstory where there wasn't any in the show. This story is going to start from the beginning of Jonas and Isra's friendship and will probably consist of four parts total (a shorter intro first part, and then a part for each season). We'll see. 
> 
> I'm not familiar with the Norwegian school system at all, so all information has been researched. If you see something that you think is inaccurate or incorrect, PLEASE message me! I will be grateful. 
> 
> (I know y'all are waiting for Even and Isak. They're not in this part, but they're coming soon, I promise you)
> 
> CONTENT WARNING FOR PART ONE: Discussion of blood/miscarriage (further description in the end notes)

Isra and Jonas meet in Grade 2 of primary school.

They’re assigned to the same class, and their _lærer_ sits them next to each other. From the beginning, they complement each other very well; Jonas is good at geography, which Isra couldn’t do if her seven-year-old self depended on it, and best of all, he's alright at maths, which Isra struggles with more than anything (she just doesn't  _get_ multiplication).

Out of all their lessons, Jonas struggled with Norwegian the most. Though he was born in Oslo, he had moved to Spain at age 2 and just moved back to Norway the previous summer. He often got frustrated at his basic mistakes and the other students would sometimes laugh at him.Isra didn’t mind taking the time to help him with spelling, or point out mistakes in how vowel pronunciation, which was so, so different from the Spanish vowels he was used to, because he always did the exact same thing with calm and patience every time she was confused and went to him for help. 

They would eat lunch together every day, occasionally joined by others in their class. Jonas would talk about his _papá_ , who would laugh with his son and tell him stories about the colors of the gardens and lakes back home in Seville.

In turn, Isra would tell him about her mamma and pappa, how her pappa was busy but loved her all the same, and about how sometimes when pappa was gone his mother would space out for minutes or hours at a time, but it’s okay that her mamma struggled with focusing sometimes, because sometimes she struggles to focus on things, too. Jonas would stare intently, listening to everything she said, which no one had ever done for her before.

_(Jonas teachers her a lot of things about having friends.)_

One day, Jonas misses school. Isra is sad and lonely at lunch, but feels better the next day when he returns.

Jonas is grinning, a photo clasped tight in his gloved hands. “I have a sister!” he proclaimed proudly. “Her name is Emilie and I love her.” He shoves the photo at Isra. She peels it a little out of her face and smiles. There it is, clearly defined: Jonas’s mamma in a hospital bed, sweaty but smiling, a small blanket in her arms. Jonas’ _papá_ standing as close to her as he possibly can without physically being in bed, one of his arms around Jonas’s mamma with the other holding Jonas. All of them are smiling, happy, and excited.

Isra grins. She’s never been so happy for the boy she calls her best friend.

*          *          *

 

Two years later, Isra is ten and her mamma is pregnant. She’s excited to be a big sister; she's seen Jonas's elation with his younger sister (and now, his foster sister, too) and she can't help but year for that. She’s been to his house, with his mamma and papá and baby Emilie, now walking and giggling as she toddles around the house.

Isra loves the idea of a sibling, a small family member. She can’t imagine herself at that age, but is already excited to do all the things her mamma had informed her that big sisters did for their baby siblings. She's not sure if she's ever wanted anything as much as she wants to be a big sister.

One night, two months before Isra’s mamma is due to have her baby, Isra is woken up by a scream. She throws herself out of bed quickly, her breathing panicked and scared, and skittered down to her parent’s room.

She freezes in horror when she gets there. Isra’s pappa has one of her mamma’s hands in the other, the other around the phone, talking with one of the 113 operators.

Isra’s mom is covered in blood, pale and unmoving.

_(Isra doesn’t realize it then, not now in the heat of the moment, but years later, she never really loses this feeling of panic. It follows her, like a constant shroud.)_

She spends the night sitting in a plastic hospital chair, not knowing what’s going on. Her dad is behind the large doors with her mother. There is a nurse sitting next to her, trying to talk to her, but Isra doesn’t feel like talking. She’s never felt this scared before. Her heart is pounding out of her chest, and there’s still a light sheen of sweat on her face. She doesn’t know where mamma and pappa are, doesn’t know if they’re ever coming back.

_(She learns later that they never fully came back, not really, after that day.)_

She doesn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after.

The day after that, Isra returns home with her pappa and mamma. Her mamma and pappa are sad, she can clearly tell, though she's not quite sure why, and her parents won't tell her anything. Mamma goes quiet when Isra asks, and pappa asks her not to bring it up again. She goes home, back into her room with the blue walls and the pretty clouds her father had painted on.

( _When she was younger, her dad would pick her up, point to the clouds on her walls and the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling and say “_ You should always reach for the stars, _skatten min_ , but should you miss the stars, be sure to hold on tight to a handful of clouds.”)

Later, she hears her dad on the phone, saying words like _miscarriage_ and _brain abnormalities_ and _he never would have survived this way_ and _maybe it’s better, he’ll never be born and he’ll avoid a short life full of excruciating pain._

And then it clicks: she’s not going to be a big sister.

She goes to school the next day. Jonas smiles at her. She can’t find the effort to smile back.

“Where were you?” Jonas asks, his curly mop of hair swinging into his head as he turns to look at her.

She shrugs. “Just home.”

They make it exactly 2 minutes into the lesson when the teacher starts talking about family structures and Isra absolutely _loses_ it and runs out of the room crying before the teacher even finishes her sentence.

She’s outside a second later, tears streaking her face and hiccupping as she falls down against a wall.

A second later, she hears someone slide down next to her, and a familiar pair of arms slide around her shoulders. He tucked her head next to his shoulder until her sobs eventually quieted down and only a few tears were silently falling from her eyes.

_(The thing about Jonas is that he’s always just known when people need someone else to be there for them. It's one of the things that she loves the most about him.)_

And Isra used to not be sure if she’d ever have friends, but she’s glad she’s got a best friend like Jonas. She didn’t even care if the other girls teased her for being best friends with a _boy._ Because, at the end of the day, she always wanted Jonas in her life, and Jonas always wanted her in his.

She'd pick Jonas over the mean girls in her class any day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING DESCRIPTION (contains spoilers): Two years into their friendship, Isra's mother is pregnant but has a miscarriage one night. She is described as pale and unmoving. She is taken to the hospital, where she is there for two days. I imagined it kind of as a pregannacy-gone-wrong where they lost the child and it nearly killed the mother. Later, Isra hears her father talking on the phone and Isra infers that the baby died (and that the baby had brain abnormalities that meant they would have lived a very short, very painful life). 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Skatten min - "my treasure" 
> 
> Changed characters:  
> Isak → Isra  
> Even → Evanna  
> Sonja → Sondre  
> Emma → Ely
> 
> Chapter title is from the Vanessa Carlton song "Who's to Say". Work title is from U2's "Iris (Hold Me Close)"


	2. I've Got Some Lies To Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isra, Jonas, Ingrid, and Eva.
> 
> Life together, piece by piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: mentions of a car accident (described further below), mentions of potential self harm and the use of the word “slicing” (further description in the end notes)

They soon realize that growing up is harder than they’d ever anticipated.

Isra doesn’t talk to her parents much anymore. They all occupy the same space, of course, but there are days where Isra thinks her pappa can’t quite look at her without averting his eyes the second she returns his gaze and sighing to himself, days where Isra’s mamma hardly says anything other than bible verses as she slices her fingers on the thin pages of the book as she rapidly turns them.

Sometimes, she dreads going home. She’s never quite sure what she’ll find once she walks in the door. Any illusion of safety she once had there is gone, now. 

They are fracturing, as a family. She sees it, but is powerless to stop it.

As time progresses, her and Jonas grow up together. He is there throughout all her family drama, and she is there for him throughout his.

In Grade 6, Jonas’s _papá_ is in a car accident so bad he spends a month in the hospital. In the end, he is alright, still grinning, still joking about how a Spaniard like him wasn’t built to survive the frigid winters of Oslo, but he always walks with just the slightest limp afterwards. But during that month, Jonas practically lived with her, sleeping nights in the guest room and then on her floor and then in her bed. On those nights she would stay up, Jonas next to her, tears silently streaking down his face, talking with him until he fell asleep, often into the early hours of the morning.

_(They’ve never been anything but platonic; she doesn’t suspect that he’d ever want anything more than that, anyhow. She certainly doesn’t. Even if either of them felt that way, they wouldn’t risk their friendship for that.)_

_(She sometimes thinks the only constant in her life is Jonas.)_

In a way, Jonas is the brother she never had. Though Jonas has his own sisters, he's never minded a third, and they both cringe and awkwardly laugh when Jonas's distant family members and makes comments about  _Jonas_ and _his future wife_  and then ask Jonas's parents when Jonas is going to marry Isra, and they both try to mask their discomfort with the whole situation.

At some point in time, Jonas's parents stop ask questions when Isra walks into their home late at night because being home was too much to bear, they just both offer her hugs and ask if she’s hungry and if she would like them to whip something up for her quickly.

They reach their last year of lower primary school, and that was crystal clear in their friendship starts to get murky. 

 

*          *          *

 

The last year before _videregående skole_ , Jonas starts dating a girl named Ingrid.

It’s new. Jonas and Isra have had friends come and go, and have had more friends join them in recent years. They love their friend Mahdi, whose had more racial slurs thrown at him in the past year alone than any person should ever have to bear but is hilarious and kind, and their friend Magnus, who has no filter but whose heart is in the right place and is one of the most sincere people Isra had ever met (and really, he'll get a filter one day, Isra's confident).

But this? This was the first time he had ever _really_ dated anyone.

Truth be told, the thing that was strangest to Isra was that now, Jonas had to split his time between her and someone else.

But Jonas was happy, so Isra bit back her loneliness, let Ingrid and Jonas have their time, and played blackjack with Mahdi and Magnus. The three of them would go get coffee, even though neither of them were particularly fond of it and really only tolerated it because Isra wanted to and they had nothing else to do, and it wasn’t what she was used to, not at all, but it was okay.

Sure, Jonas and her still get kebab. She’s more apathetic than kebob than anything else, but Jonas and Mahdi and Magnus all loved it, so just like they sit through coffee for her, she’s willing to suck it up every once in a while in the name of spending time together. They still hang out and watch shitty movies. She laughs non-stop at _Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home_ and he hates that he’s terrified at _Rosemary’s Baby_ when she just thinks all the crappy special effects are hilarious, and they both cry during _The Imitation Game._ They’re still friends, after all.

Moment by moment, piece by piece, they manage their new roles in each other’s lives.

Then, everything changes again.

It’s 7 on a Saturday morning and Isra is asleep like any _normal_ person when Jonas bursts through her bedroom door, rattling her room so hard that a picture falls off of the wall. His beanie is lopsided and he looks like all of his clothes were put on haphazardly. 

Isra nearly falls out of bed at the sound, but rolls over as Jonas turns on the lights. “I need to talk to you!” He yells, walking towards her and pulling off her blanket. Isra grabs the pillow and pulls it over her head because she just wants to  _sleep_. “Can’t it wait?”

“I slept with Eva last night.” Jonas says, quiet now. Isra looks up abruptly, knocking her pillow to the ground. Jonas has his eyes closed, staring at the floor.

“What?” Isra stared at him.

Jonas sighed. “Last night, I went to the party at Arild’s, right? The one you said you didn’t want to go to?” Isra nodded. The boys had been talking about the party all week. She had been feeling sick last night, and didn’t end up going. She gestured for Jonas to continue. “Right, well, while there, I had a fight with Ingrid. She stormed away, and her friend Eva, the pretty brunette girl, comes up to me. We start talking, and then she asked if I wanted to go back to her place.”

“So you…did?” Isra responded slowly. Jonas loved Ingrid, she could see it whenever they talked or even looked at each other. Isra couldn't lie that she was a little confused right now.  _Am I still asleep?_

Jonas nodded, running his hands through his hair. “Yes, and then we had sex at her house.”

Isra laid back down against her pillow, wishing she was still asleep. “Does Ingrid know?” Jonas hadn’t even had sex with Ingrid, and they had been dating for _months._

Jonas shook his head. “No. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

Isra exhaled, running a hand through her hair absent-mindedly. She looked up at her ceiling, still with its plastic stars stuck to it in no particular pattern. Idly, she though her curly hair must at least reach past her shoulder blades now. Maybe she should cut it.

She turned back to look at Jonas, standing above her, his coat, shoes, and backpack all still on.

“How did you get in here, anyways? Mamma and pappa aren’t home and I locked the door last night.”

Jonas shrugs, dropping his bag at last and sitting down on the floor. “Back door key in the urn.” Isra had though that her mamma had moved that, claimed that if they left a key out, demons could get into the house.

Isra wonders briefly if her mamma had texted her yet today. Yesterday’s verse had been 1 Samuel 12:20. She wondered what book today would be from.

_(She had stopped trying to decode meaning from the verses months ago.)_

Isra sighs, resigns herself to no more sleep, and drags her blanket onto the ground with her as she moves to sit next to Jonas.

“You need to work this out.” She says slowly. “You need to talk to Eva and decide what you want to do next.” She blinks at him. “Do you want to break up with Ingrid?”

Jonas looks away. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I want to break up with her, but I’m not sure that I want to be with her, either.”

Isra thinks idly of Eva, who she had only met a couple of times when Ingrid and Jonas hung out together with their larger group of friends. Eva, who stood maybe an inch or two taller than her, who had beautiful hair cascading down her back and the brightest smile Isra had ever seen.

_(When they first met, Isra knew this girl was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life, from the way she smiled and laughed to the way she effortlessly flipped her hair back.)_

_(Isra also knew she would take this secret to the grave, and quickly bit back any feelings that she may have had.)_

*          *          *

Later that day, with Isra still in the clothes she had slept in (athletic shorts and a faded Arcade Fire sweatshirt Jonas’s sisters had gotten her for her birthday three years ago), Eva came over.

Together, the three of them made a plan.

At one point, Jonas leaves to go to the bathroom. “You’re going to lose Sara and Ingrid over this.” Eva glances up from her phone to look at Isra. Isra doesn’t think they’ve ever had a one-on-one conversation before. “People will tear you apart, blame your for Jonas and Ingrid breaking up.”

Eva swallows, and nods. “I know.” She paused. “It’s worth it, I think.”

Isra nods, pulling out her phone as it vibrates in her pocket.

 

_Fra Mamma_

_The inhabitants of one city will go to another and say, "Let us go at once to entreat the LORD and seek the LORD Almighty. I myself am going." Zechariah 8:21_

Isra locks her phone, tossing it onto the white carpet on her floor, which stood in stark contrast to the blue of her walls.

_(She’s seen Eva around, seen her interact with others, and Isra doesn’t think that Eva will be able to handle losing her best friends and Jonas in the same go.)_

Isra hopes with all her being that this works out. For Eva’s sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING 1: When describing Isra’s mother’s obsession with the bible, Isra mentions that her mother turned the pages of the bible so hard that she would slice her fingers open on them. 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING 2: It’s briefly mentioned that Jonas’ father was in a car accident, during which time he spent a month in the hospital and Jonas practically lived at Isra’s house. In the end Jonas’s father is absolutely fine, but he walks with a limp. 
> 
> This brings us to the end of the exposition! The next part (which will probably be longer and split int two) will probably take me more time, as they require me to watch the episodes and write after that. 
> 
> Special thank you to everyone who has read/bookmarked/commented on this story. This is the first fic I've written in 4+ years. I also welcome criticisms, so please feel free to hit me with those. This entire fic is unbeta'd, so if you'd be interested in beta-ing it, please let me know!
> 
> Videregående skole → Norwegian upper secondary school (ages 16-19), technically but not really optional 
> 
> Chapter title is from the song “Homesick” by Catfish and the Bottlemen. 
> 
> You're welcome to come harass me on tumblr. http://frutescence.tumblr.com


	3. In Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isra, from 1x01 through 1x06.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING FOR HATE SLURS AND RECREATIONAL DRUG USE

Predictably, Ingrid and Sara ditch Eva the second they learn that Jonas is dumping Ingrid for Eva. Ingrid still doesn’t know that Eva and Jonas had sex while he was still with Ingrid, and the three of them agree that its better that way.

Summer is brief and quiet, but nice.

Mahdi leaves for the summer to stay with his uncle in Morocco. Magnus’s parents are on a travel kick, so they spend the summer with him and his brother in Oceania and different parts of the Western US.

For the most part, summer is Isra, Jonas, and Eva in a largely depopulated Oslo, with everyone who doesn't have to be in the city flocking to the nearest summer cabin they can get their hands on to fully take advantage of the good weather. And once again, they adjust.

Isra spends the summer working at a Coop, stocking shelves and smiling as older men hit on her while she asks if they’ll be paying cash or credit and pretending like these exchanges don't make her skin crawl.

When she’s not at work, she’s with Jonas at his house or with Eva at hers, or with them both, getting coffee or kebab or watching bad movies. Eva goes from being Jonas’s girlfriend to Isra’s friend and it fills Isra with a certain lightness she's never possessed before.

One day at work, Isra is working the register when her boss comes up to her and asks her for her phone so she can put her number in. She nods in agreement, pulling it out and handing it over. Once her boss leaves, the man whose items she is scanning (who is at least 40 and has a ring on his left hand) asks Isra for her number, saying he’d love to take her out sometime. While scanning his items, her phone visibly tucked into her leggings, she stares him straight in the eye and responds “Sorry, I don’t have a phone. That’ll be 348 kr.”

_(Isra isn’t oblivious to how she looks. She’s grown up over the years, on the skinny side, more from pretty much exclusively eating anything other than granola bars or cheap fruit whenever she doesn’t eat dinner at Jonas’s house since her mom physically can’t bring herself to cook and her father is never home. Her wavy blonde hair falls a few inches past her shoulders. Every time she looks in a mirror, she thinks she looks more tired than anything else.)_

_(When Isra tells Jonas and Eva that story when they all meet up at a café the next day, Eva laughs for minutes on end and Jonas stares at her in disbelief, surprised and proud._  

*          *          *

Videregående skole is different.

The year begins cool and refreshing. Isra loves her home of Oslo, couldn’t imagine herself living anywhere else, but there’s a certain air to the year in early autumn, in the sweet spot where the temperature is not as warm as July and August, but before the buckets of rain that encompass autumn in Norway, and the white nights have begun to disappear, but the all-encompassing darkness of Oslo winters has yet to descend.

The year starts out easily enough. Classes are fine; Isra earns her fair share of 5s and even a few 6s.

Eva is lonely, she can tell, and her and Jonas try to do what they can for her, but Eva's never lived in Oslo and  _not_ been friends with Ingrid and Sara, and they can both tell that the adjustment is breaking her, a little bit.

 _(She hears the words that Ingrid and Sara say. They throw words like_ slut _and_ whore _at Eva as if they’d never been friends in the first place.)_

 _(Eva keeps her head up about it, refuses to let other people bring her down anymore than they already have, but the first time Isra's in the courtyard and she overhears Ingrid and Sara talk about "Eva and her new faggot friend" with a quick glance to her_ , _she has to go inside and duck into the bathroom, close her eyes and lean against the door as she hyperventilated, tears pricking at her eyes.)_

Isra moves across the courtyard to where Jonas and Eva look like they’re about to kiss. She jumps up quickly on the wall behind them and manages to stick her paper in between them right before their faces touch. “5!” She proclaims loudly as she stifles a laugh at Eva’s look of mock-anger and Jonas’s look of indignation.

“What did you two get?”

Jonas looks down at his paper. “5+!” He proclaims, because they will never fail to compete for better grades than the other. “Eva, what did you get?”  
  
Eva looks out, staring at the doors in the distance. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Isra nudges Eva’s shoulder gently with her own. “Why not? You’ll just tell Jonas later, and then Jonas will tell me. We’re practically family. You know it’s true.”

Jonas nodded, looking at Eva. “It’s a fact. Isra knows more than my parents and siblings combined.”

Eva sighed. “I got a 4-.”

Isra stared at her. “ _A 4-?”_

“It’s okay.” Jonas starts in like the nice guy he is. “You’re good at other things. For example, you woke up this morning and got out of bed. 5+. You brushed your teeth. 5+." Jonas continues naming basic things that Eva is good at ( _“you wash your hair! You painted your nails and they look pretty!”)_ while Isra checks her phone.

 

_Fra Mamma_

_17 And whatever youDOo, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the LORD JESUS, giving thanks to GOD theFather through HIM.Colossians3:17_

_Fra Elias_

_We’re here. Are you and Jonas coming or not?_

 

Jonas or Mahdi must have given Elias her number. Christ. “Jonas, we’ve got to go.” Isra stood up, quickly pulling out her hair elastic and retying it so there were no loose strands falling out of her ponytail as Jonas said goodbye to Eva.

 

_Til Elias_

_Leaving school now. Be there in 10._

They walked for a few minutes, basking in the warmth of autumn, until Jonas broke the silence. “I’m worried about Eva.”

“How so?” Isra kept her eyes ahead.

“She’s been scoring mainly 3/4s this year. Which I know for a fact is much lower than last year.” He stopped walking for a second. It took Isra a few seconds to notice. She stopped and turned back to look at him. “Do you think this is because of Sara and Ingrid?”

The two started walking again. “I don’t know.” Isra admitted. “I know she also has some stuff going on with her mamma. It could all be building up.” She was reaching a breaking point, between the loneliness and the grades and her parents’ absence in her life. “Plus, Ingrid and Sara keep talking shit on her.” It doesn’t help that Isra knows for a fact that Eva’s still got their pictures up on their walls, effectively rubbing salt in the wound every time Eva looks up from her bed.

_(Jonas does not know about the dyke comment that Ingrid and Sara threw at her. He doesn’t need to know.)_

Jonas nodded as they walked up and rang the door to Elias’s apartment. They could hear loud music pouring out of the apartment above. “I know. “ They were buzzed in a second later. “That’s also why I’m worried. Have you noticed we’re her only friends?”

The music got much louder as the walked in the building.

 

[ _“Okay, last verse I gotta make it count_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs)

[ _Won't speak on my bank account_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs)

_[So many commas I'd have to pause](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[And I can't afford to just waste the bars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[Every day boy I thank the Lord](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[I got a lot of problems but could have more](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[Wish I spoke to my dad more, my jeweler less](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[I been hungry like Budapest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[Tell me who the best, don't give a fuck](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[I just know I'm blessed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

_[Love life even though I'm stressed”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozIdmHtTJMs) _

 

Isra nodded at Jonas as they walked into the main room. They were all sitting around a table, Mahdi, Magnus, Elias, and a few others who she only ever saw when smoking.

“Finally!” Elias proclaimed, gesturing them over. Isra gestured for Mahdi and Magnus to scoot over and make room for her on the couch as Jonas took a spot in a fold-up chair next to Elias. “You know, Isra, if you’d really like a spot, there’s an opening right here,” he gestured to his lap as Mahdi and Magnus tried to disguise their laughter. 

Isra shot him a deadpan expression. “Thanks, but I’m sure those pants are a little crusty since it’s been a while since you’ve done laundry.” She gestured to the overflowing hamper by the door as Mahdi snorted to her left.

“Just an offer.” Elias shrugged as he took a hit. He held it in for a few seconds as he held it in for a few seconds and then passed it off to Jonas, making a (failed) attempt to blow smoke rings. “It’s open so if you ever change your mind you know where to find me.” He winked at her, and Mahdi wolf-whistled as she rolled her eyes.

They talked aimlessly as the bong passed around the circle, and after her first hit Isra leaned back into the couch, content as the marijuana-induced haze began to overtake her system.

Smoking, surrounded by her favorite people (and Elias, fuckboy of the year), was quickly becoming one of her favorite activities.

Even if Elias was here saying sexual innuendos every ten seconds.

 

*          *          * 

Isra feels bad about the concert tickets and the cabin and can’t help but feel she’s intruding, even though Jonas and Eva insist otherwise.

Jonas and Isra go to Kindred Fever. It’s a tradition of theirs; they’re a west-coast Norwegian band, so they come to Oslo often enough. It was a good concert, just like it was the last few times Jonas and Isra went to see them, but Isra can’t escape the pit in her stomach that tells her she’s crossed some boundaries with Eva and Jonas.

 

[ _“I dress up nice for nobody_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _I’m still waiting for my queen_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _Full of wires and painted green_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[_Tanked up with Gasoline_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _Mad man, mad man, you call me a mad_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _Man, mad man_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _Mad man, mad man, you call me a mad_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

[ _Man, mad man”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCmKCsq4mXQ)

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” She shouts over the music and Jonas nods.

Over all, the concert is good, but relatively uneventful. Isra can’t help but wonder how Eva is doing and whether or not she went to that party.

_(The concert is relatively uneventful. Except for one thing.)_

_(In the bathroom, she sees a tall girl with curly blonde hair that stops right at her shoulders reapplying her lipstick. From her face to her heels which put her height just below six feet, Isra doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone like her._

_(She doesn’t think she knows what love feels like, not really, but she imagines that it probably feels something like this, and that scares her.)_

_(Isra doesn’t realize she’s staring at her. She also doesn’t realize that the other girl is staring back, having the same thoughts about her.)_

*          *          *

Isra wakes up to her too-early phone alarm and a text from Eva the next morning.

 

_Fra Eva_

_Do you know Noora Sætre?_

_Fra Isra_

_Maybe? I might have class with her_

 

Isra turns off her phone alarm, throws her phone off her bed, and rolls over and goes back to sleep. 

*          *          *

The three of them in the cabin is uncomfortable, to say the least.

Jonas and Eva are having sex _all the time._ And sure, Isra doesn’t really mind that part, but the walls are thin and she’s by herself in the mountains and she’s _bored_ and she’s glad that her two friends are having a great time being close to one another but she also would just like to get some _sleep_ at some point. She's taken to smoking a bowl out of her trusty pipe, Heather, every time Jonas and Eva ditch her to have sex.

She spends most of the trip at least slightly stoned, listening to Spotify off her phone and sitting in an Adirondack chair outside.

( _She knows Jonas meant to do her a favor, knew she needed to get out of the house and away from her parents when all they do is_ scream _and_ fight _and_ sigh _and read the bible.)_

 _(He’s seen how it’s affected her, having her parents always angry and yelling, sometimes at each other, sometimes at her, sometimes just to yell, wondering why they got married, why they had a child, why they had tried to have more before her mother lost the baby and was declared infertile. He sees how she struggles with other people, how she always asks “_ Are you mad?” _and how she is terrified at the possibility of that being true.)_

_(The only time her mother isn’t quoting the bible, she’s angrily yelling at Isra or her father about how they both won’t be saved from the end of the world because of all their sin.)_

_(Til Isra, 08:42:13. 4 EnterHIS gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks toHIM and praise hISNAME.Psalm100:4.)_

Walking in on Eva and Jonas mid-sex, both of them shirtless, is _not_ something she needed to see. Trying to get the image out of her mind, she abruptly turns on her heel straight out of the room and starts singing “Ja, vi elsker dette landet” as loud as she can.

Later, they all sit outside roasting marshmallows, with Jonas playing the guitar, Isra fake-singing, and Eva occasionally attempting to feed Jonas marshmallows, or just poke him in the face with her stick.

“Play ‘I’m Yours’.” Isra suggests as Jonas continues to fiddle around on his guitar.

“Can’t play that song.” He stops and turns to her. “It’s a gay song. Why do you only know gay songs?’”

“How is it a gay song?” She fights back. “It’s a song, how can it be gay? It’s a cute song. Eva, is ‘I’m Yours’ a gay song?”

“ _Nei!”_ She laughs, pulling off a bit of her marshmallow with her thumb and forefinger.

They stop as Jonas’ phone goes off, and Eva asks him who’s calling.

“Elias.”

“Ah, your new lover” Isra grins up at him in jest as Jonas hits her playfully with his hand. “What are you even talking about?” He protests to her.

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about. You follow him around all the time.” As Jonas’s phone rings and he picks it up, she continues. “ _Oh Elias! It’s me, Jonas! I’m glad we’re talking! I love you sooooooo much! Maybe we could get married and go on a honeymoon to itALY AND RIDE IN A GONDOLA AND SPEND OUR LIVES THERE!”_ Isra increases in volume, calling after Jonas as he walks away.

“What’s the deal with Jonas and Ingrid?” Eva asks a few seconds after Jonas has clearly moved out of earshot.

Isra blinked at her in confusion. “What?”

“You heard what I said.”

“You’d have to ask Jonas, I guess.”

Eva stared at her. “I know you know something, Isra.”

Isra exhaled. She didn’t want to betray Jonas, but he also didn’t want to lie to Eva, especially when she had told Jonas to just tell the truth in the first place. “They text, sometimes. I don’t know about what.”

When Jonas comes back, the fire never quite regains the same level of camaraderie that they had had before.

The only saving grace is that Jonas eventually caves in and plays “I’m Yours”.

*          *          * 

Of course, Elias shows up like an asshole by shooting off a gun. Because he’s Elias, and therefore he’s is obligated to be an asshole at least 90%.

_(It’s not that she doesn’t like Elias, per se, it’s just that he hits on her every time they talk and for some reason she can’t explain she’s never been all that into him. She knows she should think he’s cute, but she just…doesn’t.)_

Elias shows up, hugs her and kisses her on the cheek, and she can’t help but be uncomfortable about the whole situation.

She can tell Eva’s unhappy, can’t see how Jonas hasn’t picked up on it yet, but she knows the fallout is inevitable.

 "…You’ll sleep with Isra.” Isra starts paying attention at the sound of her name.

 Elias grins up at her, winking. “Can’t wait for us to share a bed together.”

“I think I’ll sleep on the couch,” she calls loudly after him, sighing. She glares at Jonas, who shrugs at her as if to ask _what was I supposed to do?_ , and turns back into the kitchen. 

*          *          *

Eva isn’t happy about the smoking, having somehow missed that Isra's been stoned the majority of this trip, isn’t happy about them leaving, isn’t happy about Isra or Elias being here at all. She can tell, by the way she looks at Isra and Jonas like they’re personally betrayed her.

Isra, Jonas, and Elias smoke a quick bowl before dinner. Dinner itself is an awkward affair, filled with Eva and Jonas screaming at each other, and Elias and Isra acting like they aren’t actually there. Going to sleep, afterwards, is somehow even worse.

Isra lasts 5 minutes and 8 sex jokes attempting to sleep in the same bed as Elias before she announces that she will be sleeping elsewhere, grabbing her pillow and snatching the blanket off of the bed to Elias’s loud protests about the cold.

“Don’t be such a lesbian!” Elias calls after her.

She pauses in the doorframe and turns to look at him, her heart pounding in her chest and her palms feeling sweatier than they did a moment ago. “If I’m a lesbian for not wanting to sleep with you, then I guess you’ll find me at Oslo Pride this summer with every other girl on the planet.”

She can’t hear anything from Jonas and Eva’s room, though, so they must still be fighting.

_(She doesn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that.)_

*          *          *

Isra and Jonas are comparing their respective school assignments where out of nowhere, Eva has _friends._

_(They’re not shocked. Eva’s a great person. They’re just, well, a little surprised that they hadn’t heard anything about it.)_

Isra is half-paying attention to the conversation, wondering more why she got a 4+ on her paper than anything else when the blonde girl suddenly throws her into the conversation. The one girl (Chris?) keeps side-eying her while the blonde chick (Violet?) invites her to join a _Russ group._

The blonde girl turns to her, seems to take her in, from her vans and jeans to her flannel shirt and beanie. “You should come, too,” she says, grinning. “See you both Friday!”

Jonas and Isra turn to Eva, and say, in unison, “ _A Russ group?”_

Jonas, the unhelpful little shit, bursts into laughter.

*          *          *

She doesn’t end up going to the Russ meeting because her father has the _brilliant_ idea that maybe all the Valtersen family needs to get their shit together is a night out at a restaurant. Because that’s most certainly bound to make Isra’s mother stop talking about things like _rapture_ and _the apocalypse_ and the end of the world and doing reckless things like spending their savings account on buying bomb shelter preparedness kits or the fact that Isra's mother has turned their front closet into a room for hoarding mail..

_(For a smart man, her father is a fucking idiot sometimes.)_

They go to a small but classy restaurant near Blankpassen. Isra, with her hair and makeup done, is wearing a navy dress and a white sweater because this dinner will inevitably be a shit show but it is a shitshow taking place at a nice restaurant.

_(She doesn’t dress up for this every school day because honestly, what’s the point, but she knows how to do it when necessary.)_

They order drinks and their food and then sit in almost complete silence that echos around them. Meanwhile, Eva is living texting her updates on the Russ meeting.

_Fra Eva_

_There are six people here. Me, Vilde, Chris, Sana Bakkoush, and the girl Noora I texted you about_

_Fra Eva_

_Vilde is trying to be nice but she’s still being a little racist towards Sana (she wears a hijab)_

_Fra Eva_

_Sana and Noora take no shit. You should meet them, you’d love them._

_Fra Eva_

_Sana wants me to dump Jonas to get with a ’97 guy?!?!?_

 

Isra turns her phone off and slides it back into her bag on the floor. If Eva keeps texting, she’ll read it later. Her father is trying to have a conversation with her mother about garden plants, and her mother just keeps talking about the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

She can’t stand the way her father doesn’t look at her unless it’s to scold her for something that wasn’t even really her fault, because it’s the only way he knows how to deal with his frustration. She can’t stand the way that her mother can’t even pretend to be interested in her day, only asks if she’s prepared for the apocalypse and tells her that school is of no use when the world will end tomorrow and Isra should go to church if she doesn't want to waste her life.

Staring into her glass of water, Isra realizes she isn’t happy at home. She wonders when her family lost the ability to interact with one another, and how this just slipped by without each other noticing it. 

*          *          *

Eva doesn’t want her mamma to meet Jonas. Isra suspects that Eva hasn’t even told her mother that she’s not friends with Sara and Ingrid anymore.

“Invite me to have dinner with your mom.” Jonas more demands than asks on their tram ride home one day.

  
Eva’s distracted, not really paying attention. “Yeah, I’ll invite you over.”

“Who are you texting?”

“Vilde.” Eva responds, not looking up from her phone.

Jonas leans back into the seat. “Ah, the Russ-bus boss.” He glances at Isra. “You’re not still in that, are you?”

Isra shrugs. She hadn’t been to any of the meetings; she’s had other things on her mind.

She stops listening as Eva and Jonas go on to debate the dangerous capitalistic nature of Russ, wondering whether there would be any food in the house tonight (probably not), wondering whether her mother was in (maybe, depending on if she’s out preparing for the end of the world again or not), and how her father would be feeling when he came home.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket.

 

_Fra Mamma_

_But I, with shouts of grateful PRAISE, will sacrifice to you. What I have vowed I will make good. I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the LORD.’Jonah2:9._

She slips her phone into her pocket and is silent the rest of the ride home.

*          *          *

Eva gets invited to the Penetrator party. She asks Isra if she wants to come with, because everyone in the Russ group is going, but she declines. She doesn’t feel like going out. It’s also her mamma’s birthday, and she doesn’t think her father will try to do anything like the disaster that going out to dinner was (her mamma was screaming about how the two of them would burn in hell for failing to repent by the time the bill arrived), but she can’t be sure.

_(As it turns out, her and her pappa don’t see her mother the whole night.)_

_(They’re not sure where she is, but they can’t help feel relieved that she’s not there, and horrified that they feel that way.)_

Jonas and the guys go to smoke, but she doesn’t feel like that, either 

She listens to Spotify, lays back on her bed with the lights off, her decade-and-a-half old glow in the dark stars still shining brightly on her ceiling, her window open, the chilly air of late autumn blowing through, and she listens to album after album.

[ _“Get in line there's no jobs and the kids are shootin' dope_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Outta work outta time mamma's startin' to loose hope, hope_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _It ain't enough to pray_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _When you got no place to stay_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Daddy just walked out mamma raisin' family._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Hey put your foot down and take a look round_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Don't like what you see_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _No No No No No No_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Hey put your foot down and take a look round_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

[ _Don't like what you see”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrGq1Zmfnvc)

 

At one point, her mother’s sister, who currently lives in Iceland, calls her.

“ _Elsku dúllan mín!”_ Her aunt exclaims once Isra picks up the phone. “How are you, my love?”

Isra laughs. Her aunt used to live minutes from them in Oslo, but had moved to Iceland with her Icelandic husband and their three small children two years ago. Despite the relatively short distance between them, they still only saw one another about twice a year.

“I’ve been better.” She admits, honestly. Her aunt was more than aware of her mother’s current state. “How are you and Nikolai? And the triplets?”

Her aunt Mona laughs. “Nikolai is good. His job keeps him busy but he’s home enough that the triplets still see him often enough. The triplets are great. Katrín always asks about you."

“Oh really?” She asked with a laugh.

Isra could practically hear her aunt’s frantic nod. “Yes. You’re like the sister she doesn’t have. Sveinn and Ari miss you too, of course.” She paused. “I know things have been difficult for you lately, my love. You’re always more than welcome to come visit us here. Have you heard from your _móðir_ today?”

Isra sighed. There’s nothing more that she would love to do than just _leave_ for a few days and spend a few days with her six-year-old cousins, but she couldn’t afford the time and money. “No, I haven’t. We tried to go out to dinner last week, but it was bad.” She paused. “I don’t think I can manage time away until at least the springtime.” Also, her small cousins are forgetting their Norwegian due to lack of use, and she’s trying to learn Icelandic so they don’t have to all resort to English but Icelandic is an unnecessarily difficult language _._ “Are you guys coming out for Christmas this year?”

“ _Nei,”_ her aunt sighed, “but we’ll be out in spring for Easter."

A clatter sounded outside the phone. “I have to go, Isra, Katrín just fell into something. Ring me whenever you want. Let me know if you hear from your mother. _Jeg elsker deg.”_  
  
“Jeg elsker deg,” she says to the empty dial tone, and drops her phone back on the bed.

 

*          *          * 

Jonas blows off Eva to go smoke with Ingrid’s brother because Jonas has been buying weed off of him every time he can't reach Elias and of course, Eva finds out about it.

_(She can tell neither of them wants to admit it, but their relationship is fracturing.)_

Eva asks her out to coffee, soon after. She tries to quell the feeling in her stomach that rises at the thought, of what it could be in any other context.

She puts on her beanie, her jean jacket, a maroon scarf that she’s had for ages, and walks to meet her friend.

The first thing that strikes her as she sits across from Eva is that she looks absolutely heartbroken. _Jonas would have told me if they’d broken up,_ she thinks to herself.

“Why so sad?” She jokes, trying to life the mood.

Eva’s having none of her joking and waves her off. “I bought you coffee,” she says, pushing a drink across the table at her. Isra takes a sip. Caffè mocha with extra sugar. Eva knew her well. “What should we talk about?” Isra asks. She knows Eva didn’t just text her at 5 this morning to have a fun café chat.

“What did you do over the weekend?” Eva asks, looking at her.

Isra shrugs. “Nothing, really. Mamma had her birthday.” She texted her mother Friday night, right before she went to bed. _Gratulerer med dagen mamma, love you always. Hugs, Isra._ She didn’t get a text back.

“So you were just home on Friday?”

“Did you see something happen on Friday?”

“No, I’m just wondering if you did.”

Isra pauses, thinks back to the conversation she had with Jonas Saturday morning. Jonas had texted her _, Missed you last night @ Ingrid’s brother’s, tell your mamma I said happy birthday!_ Jonas doesn’t need to know she hasn’t seen her mother. Isra’s not even sure if Jonas has really _seen_ her mother in the past year or two. If it weren’t for the bible verse a day, Isra would think that her mother didn’t remember her.

An awkward silence emerges between them. “I think Jonas was with Ingrid.” Eva says at last.

“Okay.” _You're wrong._

“Do you know anything about that?” _Yes_ , she thinks, _Jonas buys weed from her brother._

“No. Why do you think that?”

“I talked to him on the phone and she was in the background.” Isra loved Jonas with all her heart, she really did, but _wow_  was he stupid sometimes.

“Did you talk to Jonas about this? Maybe it was his sister.”  Maybe she doesn’t remember Ingrid enough that she’ll be convinced the two people were the same.

“No, it wasn’t her. I know Ingrid’s voice. We were best friends for years.”

“So say that to him.” _Let Jonas dig himself out._

“I’ve tried!” Eva protests. “He just got really mad and claimed that I didn’t trust him.”

Isra sighs internally. She really isn’t here to try and mend her friends’ relationship, which could easily be solved through _actually talking to one another._ “Eva, why are you with Jonas?”

“What?”

“Jonas is like a brother to me, you know that. But why are you dating someone that you don’t trust?”

That makes her pause. “Do you think I should trust him?” She asks, finally, looking afraid of her answer.

Isra takes another sip of her coffee. She doesn’t want to answer that question, because to her, it means choosing between Jonas and Eva, and it's the one true situation where she simply can't pick sides. “There’s always option #3.” She begins, as Eva’s eyes snap up to meet hers. “You could talk to Ingrid.”

As they leave the coffee shop, with a hug and a promise to see each other tomorrow on the walk to school, Isra shoots of a quick text to Jonas.

 

_Til Jonas_

_Eva knows you’ve been with Ingrid. I hope you’ve got a plan._

  
*          *          *

_Fra Jonas (Mandag 14:53:07)_

_Eva and I have talked about Ingrid. Things are good._

_Fra Jonas (Mandag 14:53:57)_

_I think (?)_

_*          *          *_

 

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 23:13:11)_

_I told Eva about Ingrid’s brother. Eva didn’t know we had been smoking weed. She’s upset._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 23:14:01)_

_I told her that there’s nothing between me and Ingrid, not anymore. There hasn’t been anything for a long time. I shouldn’t have lied to her._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 23:15:37)_

_I was honest and told her it hurt me that she didn’t trust me._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 23:16:01)_

_I’m going to stop smoking. I love Eva too much to lose her over something like this._

*          *          *

_Til Jonas (Lørdag 02:14:54)_

_My mamma was arrested last night._

 

_Til Jonas (Lørdag 2:28:36)_

_I’ll call you tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CONTENT WARNING DESCRIPTIONS*: 1. Brief mention of an encounter Ingrid and Sara called Eva a whore/slut and Isra a dyke. Later, Isra recalls the dyke comment. 2. Isra and Jonas go smoke weed with Elias.
> 
> Coop is a supermarket chain. I went to one in Zurich once, I think. 
> 
> The song lyrics from Elias’s apartment are from “Til the End” by Logic. 
> 
> Ja vi elsker dette landet is the name of the Norwegian national anthem. As far as I can tell, no one can actually make out what Isaac is saying in that scene. 
> 
> Blankpassen is a square in Oslo. There is at least 1 restaurant there. I don’t think it fits this description but most of the sites with more restaurant information are in Norwegian which I'm currently on Duolingo level 2 of but I still understand 0% of the pronunciation.
> 
> “Elsku dúllan mín!” is Icelandic for “My dear sweetie!” (according to Google) 
> 
> Móðir is Icelandic for “mother” (according to Google translate)
> 
> I tried to find specific Norwegian coffee, but I’ve never actually been to Norway and I’m American so I just went with straight coffee. As a side note, please enjoy this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLs-egzZxS4 Google is truly a wonderful place
> 
> “Gratulerer med dagen mamma, love you always. Hugs, Isra.” Means “Happy birthday mom, love you always. Hugs, Isra”
> 
> I 110% forgot that Jonas has an older sister (as seen in 1x05) so I wrote her in as a former foster sister that goes to university in Ireland but comes to Norway occasionally to visit. 
> 
> The song lyrics at the concert are from the Kindred Fever song “Machine”. Legit just learned they were a real band while writing this. I’m always down to listen to new music, though, so I’m hype about it. 
> 
> The lyrics from Isra’s room are “Dear Mr. President” by Fitz & The Tantrums.
> 
> Title of this chapter comes from “Silence” by Mike Posner (off of At Night. Alone, which is my all time favorite late-night listening album and the album most of this chapter was written to when it wasn’t being written to the SKAM soundtrack). 
> 
> I'm intending to sort of run through the rest of the first season and the second season in much the way that this chapter was written, and then slow down the last 3 seasons because we see so much more of Isak and I feel like there's much more to expand on. (I'm thinking season 3 chapters will cover AT MOST 3 episodes). Also full disclosure I did 3 shots of ouzo between editing the first and second half of this whoops.
> 
> Love you all, have a beautiful Wednesday <3


	4. All I Know Are Sad Songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of car accident, use of the n-word in the context of a rap song, recreational drug use, emotional reaction that could be interpreted as a panic attack.

Isra’s woken up by her ringtone loudly blaring inches from her ear, and she wonders why she ever thought making _legitimately the most annoying ringtone._

 She unlocks her phone, holding it up to her ear as she slams her face back into the pillow, already missing life a minute ago when she was asleep. “ _Hallo?”_

 _“Isra, it’s Pappa.”_ His voice cracks over the phone. She glances towards her alarm clock on her bedside table. _02:07._ “ _Have you seen your mamma in the past few days?”_

“ _Nei,”_ she says, trying to remember the last time she saw her mother. It must have been at least a week or two. They all eat dinner alone, so they don’t have a communal time where they would all see each other, but she hasn’t come home to her mother sitting in the living room in weeks.

Her father goes silent on the other end. _“The police arrested your mother this evening for calling in a non-existent bomb threat. While investigating, they found that’s she’s established an illegal bomb shelter in Frogner Park. They’re about to charge her and then submit her for involuntary psychiatric evaluation to see if she’s fit for legal proceedings.”_

There’s too much going on at once. She checks the clock again, looks at her phone. _02:10._

 _“I’m going to stay here, talk to the police officers some more. Don’t wait up, go back to sleep. I’ll come home and talk with you tomorrow_.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.

Isra tries to sleep but fails.

She gets out of bed, goes downstairs to sit in the breakfast nook. She looks around, looks at the house she’s lived in all her life. The shade of maroon her mother had painted the walls several years ago, back when she had _good days_ when she would be the mother Isra had known, loved, grown up with, and not just _bad days,_ when she would be who she is now. Cold. Absent. Obsessed with her ideas of religion and the end of the world, and how they all would suffer.

_(She loves her mother, loves her like she has always loved her father, but she can’t help but resent her, right now.)_

Isra wonders when they went from _good days_ and _bad days_ to exclusively _bad days,_ and how what were once considered  _bad days_ for her mother's are now her mother's _good days_ , and not for the first time, she feels like a stranger in her own home.

( _Her father doesn’t come home that night.)_

 _(Jonas texts her back, later. His texts, laced with concern, ask_ are you all right? _And_ do you want me to come over? _Or_ do you want to come here?)

( _She doesn’t respond to any of them because she feels numb to do anything other than sit here, in her chair in the kitchen, like she has been for the past few hours.)_

_(She’s not even surprised, that’s the thing. Her mother’s been building towards something like this for years.)_

_(She just feels numb.)_  

*          *          *

She spends the rest of Saturday and Sunday in bed. She turns her phone on once in a while to see if there’s anything from her _pappa_ anything from Jonas.

_(Jonas, the only friend she’s trusted with this secret. Jonas, her best friend. Jonas, whose girlfriend cheated on him, the girlfriend she’s secretly loved for over a year. She feels like she doesn’t deserve Jonas, doesn’t deserve his worry and comfort, not after what she’s done.)_

Her dad doesn’t text. He doesn’t come home, either.

She listens to LCD Soundsystem’s entire discography seven times in a row. Nothing changes.

_(The house feels empty.)_

She shoots texts to Jonas. _I’m fine, don’t worry. Don’t come over. I’ll see you at school._

She doesn’t like lying to him, but it doesn’t feel like she really has a choice anymore.

She tries unsuccessfully to sleep again as the noises of _Sound of Silver_ drifts over her.

[ _“…I wake up and the phone is ringing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _Surprised, as it's early_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _And that should be the perfect warning_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _That something's, a problem_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _To tell the truth I saw it coming_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _The way, you were breathing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _But nothing can prepare you for it_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

[ _The voice, on the other, end…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3NeWL6GAu4)

 

*          *          *

 

Jonas hunts her down before first period and finds her by her locker. He takes in her disheveled state, the ponytail under her beanie with hair that hadn’t been washed in at least 3 days, the dark circles under her eyes that betrayed her lack of sleep, and wrapped his arms around her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, Jonas’s arms around her shoulder, her chin across his and her arms around his waist, not knowing or caring who saw.

_(People always whispered that they were together, that they were fucking first behind Ingrid and then Eva’s backs, and they’re so far past the point of caring that it’s nearly comical.)_

There are no words. They don’t need them.

They walk together to class. She has Norwegian and he has French, and they go their separate ways.

Things are difficult. She can’t focus, absorbs nothing that her teachers say in her classes, and just pulls out her phone and checks it for notifications from her father, her mother, _anyone._

_(There are never any.)_

Furthermore, Eva’s acting weird.

They all know it, really. She’s been jumpy since they all returned to school, and when Isra and Jonas come up to her at lunch she practically jumps out of her seat and throws herself on his mouth.

She also asks to come watch Jonas skate, which she _never_ does. She thinks it’s stupid and dangerous. Granted, she had been there when Isra shattered her right ankle in three different places while BMX riding hardly a year and a half ago, but that’s neither here nor there.

Isra walks around for a bit, chatting with different guys littered around the skate park. Mahdi and Magnus are there, though they are not skating today, and they all lament the fact that they’re in different classes and run on completely opposite schedules and never see each other anymore. After a while, Isra sits down next to Eva, who looks nervous and happy all at the same time. “Things seem to be going better between you and Jonas.”

“Yeah.” Eva says, and her tone says _no more questions._

That’s weird. “You don’t want to say why?” Isra prods, because in their six months of friendship, she’s learned that Eva always has more to say than what just appears on the surface.

“We just talked some stuff out.” Eva pauses, looks off into the distance. Finally, she continues. “I fucked up. Badly.”

“What?” This is a new development. “What did you do?” She’s almost afraid to hear.

Eva exhales loudly. “If I tell you,” and at this point, she turns to make eye contact with her, “You have to promise you won’t say anything to Jonas.”

She laughs nervously. “Okay, I promise.”

“Seriously.” Eva stares at her. “ Otherwise you could ruin our relationship.”

She nearly rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’m not going to tell anyone. You can trust me.” _Please don’t tell me this,_ she thinks to herself, because she realizes she’s going to have to choose between keeping Eva’s secret or hurting Jonas.

“You know how I thought there was something between Ingrid and Jonas?” Isra nodded. “So I asked Ingrid if they had been together, and they had been. But there was a reason for it, and Ingrid didn’t tell me that. So I was pissed and sad and so I hooked up with Chris.”

“You hooked up with Chris?” She nearly jumps off of the bench. “The girl from Russ?!” _Are you gay?!?!_

Eva nearly scoffs at her. “No, the boy in third year! Christoffer.”

Isra needs a second to digest this. “So… you hooked up with a third year?” If Eva had been dating _literally_ anyone besides her best friend, she might have high-fived her. “It was just hooking up right, nothing else?” She feels shitty about this. _This is a shit secret._

Eva shakes her, quick to deter Isra from that line of thought. “No, no.”

“It would have been worse,” Isra says, reasoning to herself now, “if it wasn’t just hooking up.” She pauses, looks out to where Jonas is still skateboarding. “If it had meant something to you. But you were just angry.” She’s trying to wrap her mind around this. _Eva cheated on Jonas, just like Jonas cheated on Eva with Ingrid._

Eva nervously runs her hand through her dark strands of hair. “I know, but it feels shitty to just say nothing to Jonas.”

Suddenly, Isra remembers the months of third wheeling, the months of being the one left out, the one whose spent the past few months saying _no_ to social situations so she could try and deal with her fucked up family, and she can’t help but grip the wooden bench so hard that she begins to feel it splinter under her. “Eva, I’m going to be completely honest with you. If I was dating someone who hooked up with someone else, and it didn’t mean anything, I wouldn’t want to know. That shit fucks up relationships. You don’t have to tell him if it meant nothing.”

Eva seems hesitant, so Isra continues. “And it seems like you’re more in love with him now than ever, so that’s a good thing, right?! It was just a little hookup. It’ll be okay, but make sure no one else knows, that if you do decide to tell someone, especially Jonas, it won’t come from anyone else. Particularly from Chris. It’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.” Eva scoots over so the two are sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and Isra feels like there’s electricity running through her body. Eva throws an arm around her in a one-armed hug. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

Isra leaves soon afterwards, feigning illness, because she can’t bear to sit there and pretend everything is all right anymore.

 

*          *          *

 

She is in the bathroom, checking her phone.

 

_Fra Pappa_

_Mamma is being held involuntarily by Helse Sør-Øst RHF for the next three days. No visitors._

 

She has the urge to suddenly snap her phone in half, throw it against the wall, _just do something,_ because her _stupid_ father doesn’t talk with her for days, her _mother_ is crazy, and she’s never felt so powerless in her life.

She just can’t believe her mother had been this _stupid_ about everything, had gotten caught in her insanity and let it uproot their lives like this, taken their fragile family setup and thrown it all out the window _again._

 _The first text she receives from one of her parents in four days,_ she thinks bitterly, _and this is what it’s about._

Next to her in the bathroom some girl ( _Iben? who cares_ ) is bitching about how her boyfriend Chris got with some slut at the party last weekend. She’s talking about it the entire time she’s in the toilet and the entire time she stands there re-braiding her hair and this girl just doesn’t _stop talking._

“It was Eva Mohn.” Isra turns and snaps at the girl, wanted her to just _shut up_ for ten seconds _._

The dark haired girl stares at her in disbelief. “The girl from ’99?”

“Yes, what other Eva Mohn is there?!” She snaps, snatching her phone off of the wet sink basin and storming out of the bathroom.

( _She doesn’t even feel disgusting about it until long after she’s gone home to her empty house.)_

 

*          *          *

 

Eva gets smacked in the face, and Isra’s never had such a strong urge to throw up in her life as soon as she learns that it’s because someone apparently told _Chris’s girlfriend Iben_ that Eva had hooked up with him at the party.

 _(She also wants to throw up when Jonas texts her, asking her to come over, because she didn’t think of how this would impact_ him _when she nearly screamed at Iben in the bathroom.)_

_*          *          *_

Jonas is, understandably, upset.

She walks to Jonas’s house straight from school, feeling like shit. She knocks on the door and is quickly buzzed in and heads upstairs.

Isra opens the door and shuts it quietly, sets down her bag and toes off her shoes by the door, and pads up the stairs to Jonas’s room.

 _He’s blasting Kanye,_ she realizes, which truly shows how upset he is. The last time he had blasted Kanye West was when he had crashed his mother’s car while she was away on holiday with his father, and he nearly tore himself up with anxiety over how they would react.

 

[ _“…How should I begin this? I'm just so offended_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _How am I even mentioned by all these fucking beginners?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _I'm so appalled, I might buy the mall_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Just to show niggas how much more I have in store_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _I'm fresher than you all, so I don't have to pause_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _All of y'all can suck my balls through my drawers_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Dark Knight feeling, die and be a hero_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Or live long enough to see yourself become a villain_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _I went from the favorite to the most hated_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _But would you rather be underpaid or overrated?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Moral victories is for minor league coaches_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _And 'Ye already told you we major, you cockroaches_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Show me where the boats is, Ferrari Testarossas_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _And Hammer went broke so you know I'm more focused_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _I lost 30 mil, so I spent another 30_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

[ _Cause unlike Hammer, thirty million can't hurt me…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GakW-mII8h8)

 

She knocks on his door, more of a formality than anything, and pushes it open without waiting for a response.

Jonas’s entire room is a mess. The room is dark, with clothes and other objects strewn all over his floor, and is a complete minefield to walk through. The blinds are completely closed, except for a small space where they’ve been raised to make room for the open window.

He looks up from the bowl he’s in the process of lighting as she walks in. He quirks his eyebrows at her, holds out the lighter as he takes a hit and then blows the smoke out the window. Jonas’s eyes are red, and she doesn’t think it’s just from the weed.

“Hey.” She says, stepping over items on the floor and gesturing for him to make room next to him on the bed. He shuffles over quietly, so he’s all the way pressed against the wall. She picks up his comforter off the floor and balls it up, putting it on the end of the bed. She moves next to him, so their shoulders and knees are touching, but he has enough room that he can still pull away if he wants.

Jonas doesn’t say anything, merely takes another hit and passes the bowl off to Isra.

She examines it quickly, makes sure they haven’t burned it all up yet, and pressed it down a little bit before relighting it and taking a hit. She holds the smoke in for half a minute or so before she tilts her head up, blowing it up towards the ceiling.

“You’re going to set the smoke alarm off, one of these days.” Jonas pipes up, quiet and thoughtful.

She says nothing, just hands him the bowl and the lighter. “Speaking from personal experience?” She tries to joke, bumping his shoulder with hers.

He just sighs, and takes another hit. Jonas leans back once he’s finished with his hit, rests his head against the headboard. “I just don’t get it.”

Isra nods slowly. “About Eva?”

“Yeah.” He responds slowly, and with that tone of voice she knows he’s been smoking probably since before he texted her because he’s that out of it. He goes to relight the bowl but pauses, reaches over her to put the bowl down on his bedside table. Isra reaches over him, slings an arm around his shoulder as Jonas leans into her. He closes his eyes, starts inhaling with his nose and exhaling with his mouth, and she can tell he’s trying not to cry. “Why wasn’t I enough?”

She moves her hand and strokes Jonas’s hair in a comforting way. “Have you talked to Eva?”

He shakes his head slightly. “No. I’m not interested in anything she has to say at the moment.”

Isra nods.

They stay like that for hours. Jonas turns off his phone at one point, throws it halfway across the room because his notifications had been practically going off non-stop for the past ten minutes.

At one point, Jonas falls asleep, and Isra falls asleep soon after. Jonas is exhausted from the after effects of the weed and from crying, and Isra's just felt exhausted the past few weeks. They both drift off quietly. 

( _If Emilie comes in soon after to ask if either of them would like mamma to wrap anything for them and she quickly snaps a photo of the two of them sleeping before quietly skittering out of the room, well, they’ll never know.)_

 

*          *          * 

 

Isra spends most of her weekend at Jonas’s, getting Jonas to sleep, shower, and think about things other than his failing relationship. The two of them talk about anything and everything, from the time they first met to the time she nearly got kicked out of a concert as he and Mahdi watched to the time Jonas was hitting on a girl and he slipped on an icy patch right in front of her. The two of them also spend a fair bit of time watching _Bob’s Burgers_ with Emilie (Isra’s not really sure how Jonas’s younger sister found this show, or when her English reached the level where she can fully understand the context of the show with only a few subtitles, but she loves the show nonetheless.)

She can tell Jonas wants to tell her that she doesn’t have to stay, but he also doesn’t want her to feel like he’s forcing her out because he knows things are still shitty at home.

Besides, since Jonas won’t respond to Eva’s texts, she’s taken to texting Isra.

Sunday morning over breakfast, Isra informs Jonas of the forty texts she’s gotten from Eva in the past 24 hours. Jonas nearly rolls his eyes, pushing his eggs around on his plate. “She needs to take a hint,” he says.

Isra tosses her phone onto the counter, picking up her own fork. “I can go talk to her, if you want. It might get her to leave you alone.”

Jones pauses for a second. She looks at him, sees him watching her. “You can, if you’d like. And if it would get her to leave me alone for five minutes,” he says at last, running his hand through his hair.

Isra nods, tells her she’ll go talk to Eva the next time she texts.

Eva texts her again, less than an hour later, asking her to come over and to come through the basement window. Isra’s barely stood up after nearly falling through the window when Eva accosts her. “Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah.” She nods, rubs her now-dusty hands on her black leggings, and making a face at the white streaks they leave.

“What did he say?” She demands, impatient. “Isra!”

Isra sighs. “Let’s sit down.” This conversation is not going to go in Eva’s favor and will probably just upset her. “He’s pretty upset.”

Eva shakes her head in disbelief, frantic. “He has to talk to me. He has to let me explain.”

“Maybe he just needs a little space?” She bites her lip.

Eva, frantically pacing around her room, seems to be working through every detail of information that Isra had provided her. “How did he find out about it?”

“The whole school is talking about it.” _Surely Eva couldn’t have missed that?_

“Yeah, but how did _he_ find out about it?”

Isra hesitates. She knew how he had found out, knew that he had found out at the same time he had picked up the weed that they ultimately had dedicated most of their weekend towards smoking. “Elias told him.”

“So he just believed it.” A statement, not a question, but one laced with disbelief nonetheless.

It was Isra’s turn to stare at her now. “Eva, it’s kind of true.”

“I don’t understand how he can believe a rumor without talking to me first?” _But it’s true!_ She wanted to yell, but restrained herself. _Jonas is upset, and Eva is upset too._

“He said he should have known about it already.” Isra was staring at the pictures on Eva’s wall. One of them was a selfie with her, Noora and Sana, and one of them was a photo with Chris and Vilde that appears to have been taken at a party. “You’ve been acting a little weird lately. It might have just made sense to him.”

Eva’s phone buzzes with a text message. “Is it Jonas?” She asks.

Eva’s distraught expression and the tears freely flowing down her face served as enough of an answer.

She stands up, encompassing Eva in a hug as Eva began to sob into her shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Eva.”

Eva pulled away, shaking her head at her, and Isra pulled her back in closer.

Eva continued to sob, and Isra just stood there, holding her.

 

*          *          *

_Fra Eva (Onsdag 21:11:13)_

_When do you think he will be ready to talk?_

_Fra Isra (Onsdag 21:12:02)_

_I don’t know, Eva. I’m sorry._

_Fra Eva (Onsdag 21:13:45)_

_But it seems like he’s still just as mad at me. What does he say?_

_Fra Isra (Onsdag 21:14:38)_

_He hasn’t talked about you._

 

*          *          *

_Fra Eva (Fredag 15:47:05)_

_I talked to Jonas._

_Fra Isra (Fredag 15:48:59)_

_And????_

_Fra Eva (Fredag 15:49:43)_

_We’re on a break, I think._

_Fra Eva (Fredag 15:50:08)_

_He told me to call him once I figured out who I am and what I actually want._

_Fra Isra (Fredag 15:51:02)_

_Do you want to talk? I can come over._

_Fra Eva (Fredag 16:00:53)_

_No. I think I just want to be alone for a little while._

_Fra Eva (Fredag 16:03:16)_

_Thank you, though. It means a lot._

 

*          *          *

 

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 16:17:47)_

_Talked to Eva at the skate park. It’s fucked how I take tons of shit from her because she thought I was with Ingrid, and she’s the one who’s actually unfaithful, plus she lied about it._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 16:18:53)_

_I don’t understand why she had to cheat because she thought I was._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 16:25:01)_

_I just don’t understand Eva, I think._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 16:25:08)_

_I’m not sure if I ever really did._

 

*          *          *

 

Jonas is understandably still sad and upset when they see each other at school on Monday. Eva never texts her back. Eva’s requested space, and Isra’s trying to respect that, but she misses her, but assumes that Eva’s just taking some time to heal emotionally.

Until, of course, when a few days have passed, Eva still hasn’t returned to school, and Isra over hears Sana telling Noora that apparently _Eva wants to change schools._

And that, of course, isn’t something she can just let be. Isra gets home that day, flips open her laptop, and immediately Skypes Eva.

Isra’s first thought as Eva appears on screen is that Eva has seen better days. She’s wearing a hoodie that’s zipped all the way up (despite the fact that Eva’s house is always absurdly hot) and through the webcam she looks as if she’s been crying. Eva sniffles as she talks.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

 A wide silence sits between them.

“You weren’t in school today.”

Eva sighs, looks away from the camera. “No, I wasn’t.

Isra pauses. She understands that she needs to proceed lightly. “It’s really unfair that you get so much shit for this.

“I’ve decided to change schools.” _So the rumor wasn’t just a rumor._

“Why?”

“Because everything is fucked at Nissen.” Eva says, as if that explains everything, as if transferring schools four months in was just simple as that. _I hooked up with a third-year and my boyfriend got mad at me, so now I’m leaving._

“And that’s why you’re changing schools?” Eva nods. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” Eva asks, her voice filled with indignation.

“It’s just not typical of you.” Isra says, shrugging and looking away from the camera. She stares at the one family photo in her room, taken on her 12th birthday. Her father had propped the camera up on a stack of books and set the self-timer. Her mother had been having a good day, and both her parents had their arms around her.

“What the hell does that mean?” Eva demands, bringing Isra out of her memories.

“I didn’t think you were someone who would just give up.” Isra shrugs, and it’s true. In all the time that Isra had known Eva, she’d never pegged her as a quitter.

Eva scoffs at her. “What is this kind of bullshit you and Jonas are spewing about what kind of a person I am?!? Maybe I am someone who gives up! I don’t know! How would you know what kind of a person I am?” Isra goes to interrupt, but Eva waves her off, doesn’t let her have that conace. “Everyone is like, ‘what kind of a person are you? You have to know who you are!’ What a fucking cliché.”

“Yeah okay.” Isra jumps in, seizing the break in conversation as Eva breathes heavily on the other end., clearly upset “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.” Pause. “It’s actually not that complicated, Eva. It’s just what people do. If you want to change schools because things are a little fucked up, you’re someone who gives up easily. That’s just a fact.

Eva regains her composure, rolls her eyes at her. “I’m not five, Isra. You honestly thought reverse psychology would work on me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it?” She sighs. “ _You’ve got to fight back, girl._ Show them how much of a boss ass bitch you are.”

Eva quirks a small smile at that. “I have to go, Isra.” She pauses. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

 

*          *          *

 

Isra’s mother is released from RHS Thursday afternoon, and for the first time since their last disastrous family endeavor the three of them have dinner together at home.

The silence is deafening. Not filled with her father’s phone calls, or her mother’s biblical rants, or Isra just attempting to share what she’s learning in school as a way to make conversation.

“I was thinking we could out to dinner again tomorrow.” Her pappa suggests as they’re all finishing up their meals. “Isra, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

She nearly jumps up at the use of her name, having paid little attention throughout this entire dinner. “Yeah, actually, Mahdi, Magnus and I have tickets to-“

“Isra.” Her father says, fixes her with a stare. “This is really important to me.” He turns towards her mamma, looks like he might decide to move to hold her hand, but decides against it. “To us.”

She sighs, looks down at her uneaten plate of spaghetti. “I’ll let them know I can’t make it.”

Her father leans against his chair, sighing. “That’s what I had hoped. Thank you, Isra.”

On Friday night, they go to a seafood restaurant near Kavringsanden.

Like their "family dinner" the night before, it is an awkward affair.

They order their meals with little conversation; once their server leaves, _her pappa_ turns to her. “Isra, how was your week?” They had already had this conversation briefly last night at dinner, but she figures he had chosen to revive it for the sake of conversation.

She tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. “It was good,” she says.

Her father nods, gesturing for her to continue and pointing to her mother, who wasn’t paying attention and was currently staring off into the distance.

“I’ve been reading Rolf Jacobsen’s _Nattåpent_ outside of class. I like Jacobsen’s poetry and how it contributed to the modernist poetry movement in Norway.” She’s reciting an assignment she half-assed for Norwegian earlier in the week at this point, but there’s no way her parents will notice.

Her father nods. “Marianne, isn’t that great?”

Her mother snaps up at the mention of her name, turns to make eye contact with Isra. “That’s wonderful, Isra my love, but I think that won’t be of much use of you.”

Isra holds her breath. She knows where this is going. She tries to smile at her mother, but she grimaces instead. “Why not, _mamma?”_

Her mother shrugs. “How will that help you with the rapture?”

Isra and her father make eye contact, and a thousand words pass between them, unsaid.

_(Nothing, really, has changed.)_

 

*          *          *

 

On Saturday morning, Isra wakes up to screaming. 

This, in itself, is an increasingly common occurrence. It usually starts the night before and resumes in the morning once both her parents have slept, her father angrily on the couch and her mother praying in their room.

But this time, it’s loud and much, much angrier than usual. It takes her a second to realize that not only is her mother screaming, but her father is screaming back at her, the noise carrying itself upstairs from the kitchen where they are presumably fighting all the way into her room.

“….YOU HAVEN’T THOUGH ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF IN _YEARS,_ MARIANNE! YEARS! YOU-"

“I AM THINKING ABOUT OUR FUTURE! WHEN THE APOCALYPSE COMES, WE NEED TO BE SAVED. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING, TERJE, TO HELP US? YOU’VE BEEN THROWING US INTO A DEN OF SIN. IF IT WEREN’T FOR ME-”

Isra closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want to go downstairs in the crossfire of her parents, but she needs food and she needs her laptop, both of which are down there. She’s got no choice but to brave the argument, and hope that she can escape without either of them noticing 

She toes on her slippers; walks quietly through the hallway and down the steps, hoping her parents can’t hear her.

When she comes downstairs, the disheveled sight of her mother, and the sight of her father in a suit greet her. His shoes are on and he’s looks like he’s about to go to work. It takes her a second to realize that he’s not just leaving, he’s _leaving permanently._

“What are you doing?!” She demands of her father, marching outside and looking furiously between his boxes of items, his open trunk, and the suitcase in his hand. “Where are you going??”

“Isra-“

“No!” She yells. “You’re not leaving." 

Her father sighs at her, and sometimes, she’s convinced his two emotional settings are _passive aggressive anger_ and _sigh_. “You don’t get it, my dear, you’ll understand when you’re older, but sometimes-“

“You’re just _giving up?”_ She demands, tears pricking at her eyes. “ _After 20 years, you’re just leaving like this?”_

Her father turns away, unable to look her in the eye as he moves further outside to put his final suitcase in the car. He pauses, puts his hands on the side of the car. “Isra, sometimes-“

“ _Stop treating me like a child.”_ She yells, tears freely rolling down her face now. “ _You’re_ running.” She ‘s breathing heavily now as well, her voice getting increasingly more pannicked. “ _You’re running away, giving up- YOU’RE LEAVING ME WITH HER.”_ Her voice cracks on the last syllable, and for the first time in years, she has the undivided attention of both of her parents

_(She may not be close with either of her parents, but at least having them be together, through formality if nothing else, meant that she wasn’t alone.)_

Her father, for the first time, looks hesitant. Her mother looks heartbroken, clutching at her rosary. Isra closes her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to hurt her mother like that, hadn’t meant to do so many things, but it was too late.

Her pappa, no, her father, no- _Terje,_ puts his last suitcase in the trunk and shuts it, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Call me if you need anything, Isra. I’m sorry.”

_(She stands in the driveway, staring at the spot where Terje’s car had vanished, and sinks down to her knees, silent sobs racking her body as her mother openly wails in the doorway.)_

 

*          *          *

 

She doesn’t register how much time she must have spent outside, kneeling on their driveway and staring at the bend in the road where her father’s car had vanished, until she finally pulls herself off the pavement and walks back inside. She slowly mounts the stairs to her room and picks up her phone off of her nightstand and sitting down in the middle of her floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. She ignores her mother sobbing loudly downstairs. She has a handful of missed text messages.

 

_Fra Jonas (Lørdag 10:32:15)_

_Are you, Mahdi & Magnus still smoking later?_

_Fra Jonas (Lørdag 11:02:18)_

_How was family dinner last night?_

_Fra Jonas (Lørdag 14:03:42)_

_Where are you?_

 

She looks around her room, with its haphazardly placed glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and the clouds her father had hand-painted himself on the walls, and her crying beings anew.

 _(A memory jumps to the forefront of her mind, the memory of when she was younger and her dad would pick her up, point to the clouds on her walls and the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling and say “You should always reach for the stars, skatten min, but should you miss the stars, be sure to hold on tight to a handful of clouds.” All of a sudden, she has the urge to take a sledgehammer to the walls until there is nothing left.)_  

 _(Words don't mean_ shit _, anyways.)_

Everything in her room, in this house, is stained with the thought of _him,_ she thinks, and the echo of when the three of them were still a family. She takes the family photo from her 12th birthday, crumples it, and throws it across the room because she can’t bare to look at the remind of what’s she’s lost, the reminder of what they could have been.

The world feels like it’s closing in around her. She thinks of the clouds, thinks of the family dinner last night, which, she realizes now, will likely be their last family dinner.

She feels like a sinking ship, like each breath is getting steadily more difficult and she’s powerless to stop it. Her phone beeps with another text from Jonas, and she does what she’s always done when she’s upset.

She calls him. 

 _“Yo, where have you been?”_ At the sound of her best friend’s voice, the best friend who she has wronged so, so badly in the past few weeks, her hastily put-together resolve shatters once more.

“ _What’s wrong?...Isra, hey, I can’t make out what you’re saying, you’re crying too hard.”_ There’s some fumbling on the other side as Jonas talks to someone on his side of the receiver. “ _Hey, hey, hey, Isra, it’s okay, I’m -- Isra, I’m putting you on with Julie for a second, okay? I’ll be back in a moment.”_ She tries to say _“yes”,_ is sure it’s unintelligible. Nevertheless, she’s passed off a moment later to Jonas's older sister.

 _“Hey Isra,”_ Julie says, her voice gentle but her Norwegian rough around the edges after having spent so much time abroad. “ _Are you at home right now?”_

She focuses on her breathing. “Yes-“ she gets out, still crying. “Julie, I’m at home, in my room." 

Julie says something to someone on the other end (probably Jonas). “ _Isra? I’m putting Jonas back on, okay? Love you. Whatever it is, you’ll be alright. If anyone can do anything, it's you.”_ Isra nods to herself, and doesn’t quite register that Julie can’t see it.

Jonas takes over for Julie. _“I’m coming over, okay?”_ She manages out another affirmation. “ _I’m coming over. Julie’s going to drive so I’ll be there soon, okay? Don’t hang up. Stay on the phone.”_

She nods, can’t bring herself to verbally respond as she’s overcome by a moment of numbness. Her sobs subside for a moment, her breathing steadier. “Jonas, my father left my mom this morning. I don’t know where. I don’t think he’s coming back."

She hears Jonas’s sharp intake of breath, his quick murmur to his sister, and then he’s back on the line. _“Fuck, Isra. I’m sorry.”_ Jonas pauses, the only sound being their breathing over the receiver. _“That’s his loss, then. It's his fault, not yours.”_

Isra starts crying all over again and hears as Jonas’s panic seems to pick up, listens as he promises he’ll be there soon if she can just give it a minute or two and in the mean time he talks aimlessly about what Emilie is doing in school, how Julie is doing in Dublin, just something so there is something other than Jonas’s franticness and Isra’s sobs.

She’s still sitting on the floor of her room, still crying, her phone clasped in her hand when Jonas comes in. He nearly throws his bag to the ground and moves towards her.

He pulls her into a hug and she feels herself shatter. She lets herself cry, for her, for her mother, for her younger sibling that never was but should have been, for the family they all could have been but never had the chance. She cries, with Jonas’s arms wrapped around her, his head on top of hers. He just lets her, understands the shift happening in her life right now, and understands that this is what she needs to do.

 _(There’s so much that needs to be done. Isra has to find her mom, who she hasn’t even_ seen _since she came back inside, phone her aunt, make sure her mom was psychologically cleared and is fit to keep living in the house, needs to make sure her mother isn’t dead somewhere in the meantime.)_

Jonas navigates them towards her bed after a few minutes of just standing in the middle of her floor, maneuvers them so that they’re lying in her bed so that Jonas sitting up against the headboard, his arm around her shoulders, with Isra nestled into his side, still sobbing. They sit like that, Jonas occasionally whispering words of comfort and stroking her hair. 

At some point, she must cry herself to sleep to sleep, because she wakes up and it’s dark outside. She’s still leaning against Jonas in a position that makes her side hurt and guarantees that his back will be screaming in pain tomorrow. She picks up her phone from where Jonas must have put it on the bedside table and scrolls through her notifications.

 

_Fra Mona (International#) (Lørdag 14:59:37)_

_I’ve been on the phone with your mother. I’m upset and disappointed with Terje, as I’m sure you both are as well. I’m getting on a flight to Oslo tonight. You guys shouldn’t be alone. I’ll be in by 11 and will get a taxi to yours. Love you._

_Fra Mahdi (Lørdag 18:02:45)_

_Heard from Jonas. Sorry about your pappa, he made the wrong choice. Let us know if you need/want anything._

_Fra Magnus (Lørdag 18:05:24)_

_Don’t be mad, but Jonas texted Mahdi and me to let us know why you wouldn’t be coming later. Fuck your dad, he doesn’t deserve you guys._

_Fra Magnus (Lørdag 18:06:01)_

_Mahdi and I are more than willing to come over and rescue you from Jonas also, if you’d like ;)_

 

Isra nearly snorts at Magnus’s message. She loves her boys immensely, but only Magnus would put a winky face in a text apologizing for how her father’s left their family.

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 22:18:07)_

_I know you don’t understand why I had to do what I did, Isra. I know it’s hard. But we haven’t been a family for a very long time, and it’s just impossible for me to be there with your mother anymore. I know you’re upset with me, and I know I’ve made some mistakes, but just because I’ve chosen not to be with your mother anymore doesn’t mean that I’ve chosen to not have you as my child anymore. I still love your mother, I suspect I always will, but we can’t be together anymore, and that’s become increasingly apparent in the past few weeks. I know I’ve spent too much time working, made too many mistakes, but I’m still your father. I still love you. I’m sorry. Call me soon._

 

Isra rubs the sleep out of her eyes, looks up at Jonas, still sound asleep against her headboard despite the bright light of her phone. She gently removes his arm from around her and walks barefoot to her bathroom out in the hallway.

Once she turns on her bathroom light, she realizes that, appearance-wise, she, like much else in her life, is a complete mess right now. She’s about 20% positive her hair has sticks in it, and she now gets a high-definition look at the fact that her face is extremely puffy and her throat is painfully sore.

She washes her face quickly and splashes some additional cold water on her face for good measure. She easily drinks eight glasses of water, and then leans against the wall of the bathroom. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths before she remembers her aunt’s text messages from earlier. She quickly pulls her phone out of the pocket of the sweatshirt that she must have put on at some point between sitting in the driveway and falling asleep. She checks the time. _03:18._ If her aunt’s in, she’s probably asleep by now.

She shoves her phone back into the pocket of her sweatshirt and walks downstairs to find her mother nowhere in sight and her aunt, still aware and sitting at the counter.

Mona has her dark hair up in a bun and her glasses sliding down her face as she flicks through pages on her iPad. She’s eight years younger than her mother, but she looks decades older than the last time she saw her.

Mona looks up in surprise from her phone at the sound of her coming in. “Isra,” she says, laying down her iPad and standing up from her. She walks towards her, pulling her into a hug.

“Mona,” she replies, wrapping her arms around her aunt.

Her aunt pulls away after a few seconds, seems to run her eyes over Isra. “How are you, my love?"

“I’m fine,” she replies, looking anywhere but back at her. “How is _mamma?”  
_

Her aunt sighs. “Your mother isn’t taking it well. She’s asleep right now. Like you should be.” She eyes her aunt with disbelief and nearly snorts.”

“You say that like it’s not 3 in the morning and you shouldn’t be asleep as well."  
  
Her aunt nearly grins a little bit at her. “Perhaps, but I have 3 small children. I’m used to being awake at odd hours.” Her aunt pauses. “I talked with that boy earlier – the one in your room.”

“Jonas?" 

Mona nods. “I knocked on your door and then opened it when I didn’t get a response. You were sleeping, but he was still awake.”

Isra nods. “He’s a friend of mine.” Mona eyes her in disbelief. “I’m serious, he’s just a friend.”

“Okay,” her aunt says, not believing a word of it. “Whatever you say, Isra dear.” She reaches a hand out, touches Isra’s hair. “Don’t worry about your mother,” she continues, quieter this time. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

Isra nods, suddenly feeling tired again. “Yeah. I’m going back to sleep.”

Her aunt holds out her arms and Isra moves to hug her again. “If you need anything, I’ll be down in the guestroom.” She nods and heads back to her room.

Jonas is still asleep and leaning uncomfortably against her headboard when she gets back to her room. She taps him gently on the shoulder as she crawls back into bed. “You’re going to murder your back like that.”

He opens an eye at her.“No, I won’t.”

She laughs, in spite of the situation, and goes back to sleep.

( _She also doesn’t miss Jonas shifting down as to avoid pinching his back on the headboard)._

 

*          *          *

 

Sunday is slightly better than Saturday.

She wakes up later in the morning, alone in her bed. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and looks up to see Jonas tidying up her room, picking up clothes and objects that have somehow ended up strewn across her room over the past 24 hours. _Has it only been that long?_

“Thanks,” she says to Jonas, who looks over at her. He probably hadn’t noticed that she’d woken up.

“Your aunt and mother left to go somewhere.” He says, returning to cleaning her room. He picks up a shoe and walks to put it back in her closest.

Isra nods, sliding her legs out of bed. She stands up, runs a hand through her hair. “That’s probably for the best.” Jonas nods in agreement. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Okay,” he replies. “I can make you food, if you want?” Jonas’s cooking, she knows, is mediocre at best, but she appreciates the thought from him all the same.

She smiles a little bit, despite herself. “We probably don’t have any food downstairs. I’ll figure something out once I shower. Thank you, though.”

Forty minutes later she finds Jonas in the kitchen, playing Solitare on his phone. She’s wearing athletic shorts and a sweatshirt with her hair still wrapped in a towel 

“Eva stopped by.” He starts, and she freezes. “Said she needed to talk to you about something.”

“Oh,” she says, careful to keep her tone neutral. _She knows about Iben._ “Did she leave? 

Jonas nods. “I told her you were in the shower, she said she’d text you later.”

Isra nods. “Okay cool I’ll text her later, then.”

Eventually, they migrate towards the living room and watch movies. She sends Mahdi and Magnus a Snapchat of her and Jonas watching _Freaks and Geeks_ and suddenly, twenty minutes later, she’s sandwiched on the couch, leaning into Jonas on her right with Magnus and Mahdi on her left.

_(They make their way through Freaks and Geeks, Bring it On, and halfway through Ferris Bueller’s Day Off before she falls asleep again.)_

_(She wakes up the next morning at 11, alone, reads a note from Jonas that says_ went to school, text me when you get up, _and smiles at the note_ ).

_(She rolls over on the couch and goes back to sleep.)_

 

*          *          *

 

When she wakes up again it’s nearly 17:30, and she’s got several texts on her phone.

 

_Fra Eva (Fredag 15:19:14)_

_I talked to Jonas, I’m sorry about your parents._

_Fra Eva (Fredag 15:19:53)_

_Iben’s having a girl-power Christmas party this Friday, told me to bring anyone I want. You should come. It’ll be fun._

_Fra Isra (Fredag 17:35:59)_

_It’s okay, not your fault. I’ll try to make an appearance at Iben’s._

 

*          *          *

 

She goes back to school on Tuesday.She doesn’t really think she wants to go to Iben’s party, not really, not when Eva probably still hates her and she’s just tired but Magnus wants to go and Jonas and Mahdi have respective family things, so she decides to suck it up and just go, for Magnus if nothing else.

The rest of the week moves quickly after that, and suddenly, it’s Friday evening, and Isra’s wearing black skinny jeans and a red shirt with a leather jacket on top and is walking into Iben’s with Magnus.  

She gets in the door, hangs up her coat and then immediately beelines towards the fridge to find something to drink.

While rummaging in the fridge, hoping to find not-shitty alcohol, Eva comes up to her and pulls her into a hug. “How’s it going with you?” She asks, a slight look of concern on her face.

“Eh…. Better,” Isra says at last, because she still hasn’t talked to her father but her mother’s stopped crying all the time, so that must count as a win.

“Good.” Eva gives her a small smile. “How are things going with your mom now?" 

“…Good. It’s a lot of stress. But, her and pappa will find some sort of a solution once they talk, I'm sure.” _As soon as they can talk to each other,_ she thinks to herself, and they can sort out what to do with the house and with their shared assets, because her father doesn’t want their house but her mother can’t afford it on her own.

“Good. So it’s going better with you now?" 

She pops her beer, taking a sip, raises it in a salute gesture to Eva. “Now things are going better.” 

Eva nods, looks away from her to stare at one of the paintings in Iben’s kitchen. “I have news for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Me and Jonas are back together.”

She tilts her head a little bit at that new bit of information, because she’s no sure if Eva’s telling the truth. “Seriously?” Eva nods. “He hadn’t said anything to me, but that’s great!” _Why didn’t Jonas tell her?_ This doesn’t make any sense to her.

“Yeah, I know." 

“Has he forgiven you and everything?” She asks, faking nonchalance and leaning against the fridge.

“Yup!”

“Great!” Isra tries to smile at her, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“Yeah.” Eva looks at her with sincerity. “So I just wanted to say thanks for being there for me. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I don’t have many people I can trust. But you’re one of them, so thanks." 

Isra tries to smile at her again. “I’m just glad you guys worked it out.”

“Yeah. I’m happy you support us.” 

She mock-salutes Eva, laughing nervously. “Team Jonas!”

Eva looks up at her, her smile dropping off of her face. “There’s just one thing I’m still wondering.”

Isra’s smile slides off her face. Eva glares at her. “Did you also support us when you told everyone that me and Chris hooked up? Because our relationship went to _hell_ after that, Isra, _hell.”_ She’s yelling now. “My whole life went to hell after that! So you MUST tell me what you were thinking. Because it’s psycho, Isra! It’s psycho! Why did you do it?”

Isra closes her eyes, breathes deeply. She reopens them and stares at a painting behind Eva. “Eva-“

She can see the tears in Eva’s eyes. “What were you thinking?" 

She stares at Eva, can feel her own tears pricking at her eyes. “You _honestly_ don’t know why?” She laughs bitterly.

“No, I don’t know why!” Eva yells.

“Think about it.” She says, quieter. “You’re smart, Eva, smart enough to puzzle this one out.”

There’s a long silence between them as Eva searches for words. “What, do you have…have….feelings, for Jonas?” Throughout their friendship, Isra doesn’t think Eva’s ever looked more betrayed.

There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach. _No,_ she wants to scream, _not Jonas!_

 _(She really can’t fault Eva for jumping to that conclusion, not when Ingrid and hundreds of others before her had, not when everyone does, because the world still can’t look at two people of the opposite sex and think_ platonic _.)_

She takes a deep breath, and resolves to run with it. “Like you didn’t know?” Somehow, this is the hardest thing she’s ever done. This blatant lie to someone she loves. She’s lived her whole life in the closet ( _even though she’s still not even sure_ what _she is, just knows that she has feelings about girls that she’s never had about boys),_ but _s_ he’s never really thought of herself as hiding. In this moment, however, she realizes that that’s what she’s doing. That this is what she’s spent her whole life doing. Hiding. Running from the truth. She realizes that she will do whatever it takes to make sure her secret stays a secret. No matter how many friendships it may destroy in the process.

“No, I didn’t know.” Eva sounds confused, angry, hurt, and upset. If her and Jonas actually _are_ back together (which she doubts, because she thinks that, at some point over the large amount of time they’ve spent together this week, he would have told her), the fallout of this conversation will be bad, and she’ll either have to lose Jonas or tell him _why_ she’s never been into him.

_(Either option is unfathomable.)_

“So it’s not that great for me to have to listen to you…” If she’s going to sell this, convince Eva, she needs to be thorough. “…Talk about Jonas all the time, and me having to be your advisor. That’s a really shitty time for me, Eva. Sitting there like a moron, and hoping one day the two of you realize that the two of you aren’t good for each other.” She almost says _that you’re not good enough for him,_ but that’s too much. She can’t hurt Eva like that.

Eva’s still blinking at her, lost and confusion deep in her eyes. “Isra, I didn’t know.”

She sighs. “Honestly, Eva, how can you not understand?”

Eva just stares at her, and then takes a deep breath and continues with what she had originally planned to say. “Anyways, that doesn’t excuse what you did. You threw me under the bus in front of the whole school, and it’s frankly terrible that you would choose to hurt _Jonas,_ who’s been your best friend forever, like that.”

“I know,” she cuts in, because she doesn’t want to stay on this topic of how much she’d wronged her best friend. She’s already painfully aware. “It was stupid of me, and I fucked up.”

“But I was drunk when I told Iben,” she continued, hoping Eva wouldn’t stop to notice the lie, “and I was upset, and angry, and I felt like you’d used me. I didn’t know Chris had a psycho girlfriend that would go crazy and invite a bunch of drama. That wasn’t what I had wanted for either of you. If I had realized, I wouldn’t have done it." 

“But why-“ 

Noora barges in, interrupting them, and demands Eva come outside now. Isra slumps against the counter.

“Eva-“ she calls, as the other girl turns around quickly. “You can’t tell Jonas about this, okay?”

Eva doesn’t respond, merely turns on her heel and walks away.

_(She leans back, closes her eyes, wills the tears to stay away. Isra doesn’t think anyone notices her slipping out of Iben’s side door. Magnus looks preoccupied with a girl, and Eva’s left. They’re really the only two who would notice that she wasn’t there, anyways.)_

 

*          *          *

In the end, Isra hunts Eva down Monday at school.

She’s walking away with Noora. Isra takes a deep breath. _Now or never._

“Hey.” She steps up to them, notes the quick flash of surprise in each of their faces. She turns to Eva directly. “We should talk.” 

Eva nods. “Yeah.”

“When can we talk?”

“Oh, um, I have lots to do this week.” Eva hesitates. “Maybe Thursday?”

 _Thursday is so far away from now._ “Thursday is good.” She says, tries to smile at Eva, but gives up after a millisecond of trying.

And then, in one of the most undignified moves of her life, she practically sprints through the door, desperate to end the conversation.

 

*          *          *

 

Eventually, Thursday arrives.

Before they talk, they get coffee at a place by school that they’ve gone to a million times before. They make stilted conversation, avoiding topics like her mother and Jonas as the walk to a park not far from school and settle on a bench. Isra wraps her red scarf around her neck like a blanket, desperate to keep out the chilly December weather.

“Isra,” Eva beings, “be completely honest with me now.” She looks upset, like she’s been crying recently, and Isra can’t help but acknowledge that she caused this, because this whole... _situation_ is largely her fault.

“Yeah.” She inhales loudly. There are so many different places to begin.

“If I don’t believe you, I’ll ask Jonas. Then I’ll tell him why I’m asking.” Jonas would never really believe that she was into him; just like she would never buy that he was into her. It’d be an instant red flag. He’d ask even more questions of her then.

She nods. “I understand.”

“When we were at the cabin, and I asked you if Ingrid and Jonas texted, and you said you knew nothing about it.”

She nodded, couldn’t meet Eva in the eye. “I knew that Jonas texted with Ingrid because of her brother.” It’s the same reason she has Ingrid’s number in her phone, after all.

“So it wasn’t about French?”

“No.” She pauses. “Well, maybe that too. Jonas stressed like crazy about bringing that stuff on the cabin trip. Her brother wasn’t picking up, so he texted her instead.

Eva seemed to struggle for words and a flash of anger passed over her face. “You guys smoked at the cabin?!?”

Isra stared at her. _Had she missed that?_ “Yeah. That’s why Elias came. Jonas didn’t have the chance to get any before we left. I won’t criticize you, but we were pretty out of it. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”  _Lies,_ she thinks.  _All you ever do is lie, Isra._

Eva, it seems, did not spend a lot of time around high people. 

“Okay,” she shakes her head, clearly still in disbelief but deciding to change the subject, “Anyways. What about the other time? When I heard Ingrid’s voice over the phone. When I asked you, did you know anything?”

“No.” Eva stares at her in disbelief. She sighs, tilters her head. “I probably could have guessed that it was because of her brother. But I promised Jonas I wouldn’t tell you anything about him smoking because he said it had upset you last time.” In truth, they had only smoked a handful of times since Eva had asked him to stop, but he knew that that would be enough to upset her. “I kept my promise.” 

“But you told me to ask Ingrid!”

Ah. There it is. “That was bad advice. Plain and simple. I should have just told you not to worry about her.” She pauses, closes her eyes. “Jonas was more in love with you than ever.”

Eva doesn’t even bother to hid how pissed she is anymore. “It would have been really cool if you could have told me this a bit earlier.” And to that, Isra’s got no response.

“One more thing,” Eva begins, her voice rising. “If you wanted to fuck things up between me and Jonas - which you did a very nice job of doing, by the way, - then why didn’t you tell me to tell Jonas about Chris?”

In this moment, it becomes apparent to Isra that Eva and Jonas don’t actually understand each other all that well, not nearly as well as they think they do. “I knew that if you had told Jonas yourself, he would have forgiven you.”

Eva is furious. “Do you understand how fucked up that sounds to me?! I feel like I don’t even know you anymore!”

Her voice shakes a little as she talks, but she needs Eva to hear her out, needs Eva to understand why she did what she did. “I know it doesn’t seem this way, but I never wanted to hurt either of you, Eva. It just turned out this way. I’m sorry. I truly am.”

“Karma’s a bitch.” Eva says to no one in particular, and Isra can’t help but agree.

“If nothing else,” she continues, “at least now I know how Ingrid must have felt.” And, after all of their late night conversations about how Ingrid and Sara had wronged and hurt Eva, that hurts Isra enough to nearly rip a hole through her.

Isra has nothing left to say. They part way soon after, give each other a short hug as they go.

They both realize that it’s probably the last time for a very long time that they’ll spend time together one-on-one, and Isra can’t help but feel empty.

 

*          *          *

  
_Fra Jonas (Fredag 18:02:34)_

_I’ve been with Eva. Talk @ the tree lighting?_

_Fra Isra (Fredag 18:02:59)_

_Sure. Coming in a few._

 

*          *          *

Isra shows up to the bonfire with Magnus, because he wants to go but can’t get a hold of Mahdi.

 

( _Isra punched him in the shoulder when he told her that reason. “_ I’m your second choice?” _She had jokes, laughing._

 _“_ No, don’t worry,” _he had responded. “_ Jonas and Eva are having a relationship talk, so he’s busy. You’re actually my third choice. 

 _She smacked him again after that, but it had little impact considering how she was nearly doubled over in laughter.)_

 

A few minutes after she arrives at the tree lighting. Eva comes up to her and wraps her arms around her as Magnus suddenly finds somewhere else to be. 

“Jonas and I broke up.” Eva sighs.

Isra nods slowly, unsure of what to say.

“I just thought I should tell you.”

“Are you okay?” She asks, because she hates that she’s hurt Eva in this way, hates that she interfered and fucked over pretty much the  _only_ female friend that she's had for longer than a month.

Before Eva can respond, Noora comes up to them, asks if any of them had seen or heard from Vilde. She complains to the both of them about how no one at the tree lighting seems to have any working technology.

Isra merely hands her phone off to Noora, unlocks it quickly, and moves to talk to Jonas by the tree. Eva or Noora can find her later, give her her phone back.

“Hey,” she says, sliding up to stand besides him.

“Hey.” He greets, staring at the tree. 

“How are you?” She asks, feeling weary. _What a semester._

He quickly looks to her and then back at the tree. “You talked to Eva.”

“Yeah.” She says, even though he really didn’t ask it as a question.

He nods slowly, more to himself than anyone else. “So you know we’ve broken up.”

She nods. “I’m sorry, Jonas. I know she meant a lot to you." 

He goes to respond but is interrupted at the loud noises of Mahdi and Magnus descending upon them with a yell.

 “ _GOD JUL!”_ The two of them yell, Magnus looking ready to try and jump onto Jonas’s back, and they all dissolve into laughter.

_(Isra’s glad that, no matter how complicated or difficult things become, they’ll always have each other.)_

 

*          *          *

 

Isra has more fun than she’d thought she’d have at the tree-lighting, and goes home to Jonas’s afterwards because her aunt has gone back to Iceland for the moment, with the promise to return soon, and her mother’s spent the past three days praying in the living room, or asking for repentance, or maybe for her husband to come back. Isra’s not really sure, she’s been trying not to listen.

It’s just easier to not be in the house right now.

Despite the breakup of her two best friends (one of which, she thinks sadly, is now probably a former best friend), she’s actually had a relatively okay day. She’s sitting in the Vasquez family room. Joans is in the kitchen with his father making some sort of Spanish rice dish despite everyone’s insistence that they’re not actually hungry, and Isra’s been chatting aimlessly with Julie and Emilie for the past few minutes.

That all nearly goes down the drain when she looks at her phone sees the apps that Noora and Eva must have opened when they had her phone (Facebook, Messages, Safari), because she knows that, in that moment, she hadn’t closed her Safari tabs from the night before.

She’s got about six different windows of lesbian porn open, from PornHub to specialty sites (and she feels ill at the thought of these things they now know about her), from a moment the night before when she had just been _curious,_ wondered what the feeling she had whenever she looked at Eva had been, and, oh my god, _there’s no way they didn’t see what she had open._

Before she can panic, she locks her phone, presses it against her head, and realizes there’s nothing to be done about it now. She shuts her phone off, tosses it on the coffee table, and joins in on Emilie and Julie’s conversation about the merits of _Bob’s Burgers_ versus _Futurama_.

She hopes nothing comes of Noora and Eva’s discovery. She’s got to call her father back. She needs to sort her Christmas plans out. _There’s so much left to do._  

She leans back into the couch, decides to worry about the millions of things she needs to do another day, and resolves to just enjoy the moment, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW Description: 1. There’s a line about how “the last time Jonas had been this upset was when he had wrecked his parents’ car while they were on holiday”.  
> 2\. After Eva cheats on Jonas, he’s sitting in his room listening to a Kanye West song, and Jay-Z says . The line in question is “I'm so appalled, I might buy the mall / Just to show n****s how much more I have in store” (the word isn’t starred out in the actual text). 3. When Jonas is upset, Isra comes in and he’s smoking weed and Isra joins him. 4. When Isra’s father leaves, she reacts in a way that could be considered symptoms of a panic attack. It wasn’t written specifically as a panic attack, but could be interpreted in that way. 
> 
>  
> 
> Translations/ other things: Title of this chapter is from “I Took A Pill In Ibiza (Acoustic)” by Mike Posner
> 
> -“By the Seaside” is one of the preset iPhone ringtones. It is the single most annoying ringtone I’ve ever had. If, say, you have a roommate and that’s her morning alarm, you will NEVER sleep through it. 
> 
> -Frogner Park is a park in Oslo. According to Google, it’s one of the largest. Just as a reminder, I'm an 18-year old college student in the US who has never once been to Norway, so if there's a Norwegian inaccuracy, PLEASE let me know. 
> 
> -Sound of Silver is LCD Soundsystem’s third album and is widely regarded as one of their best. The lyrics are from the song “Someone Great”, which is a fantastic song that was used in Skam S3, but only the intro was included in the scene. 
> 
> -You can have platonic best friends of the opposite sex even if the other person has a girlfriend. U can be friendly and tactile with people of the opposite sex without it being inherently romantic or sexual. psa. i'm a slut for platonic and supportive friendships always. 
> 
> -Helse Sør-Øst RHF is the largest Regional Health Authority in Norway and covers Oslo. According to Wikipedia, Norway has national health care and RHF would be in charge of mental health for the area. 
> 
> -Julie is the name of Jonas’s older sister who I forgot about / who was written into this story as an old foster-sister of Jonas and Emilie’s who goes to school in Ireland but comes home to visit. 
> 
> -The song Isra hears from outside of Jonas’s room is “So Appalled” by Kanye West (the verse used is the first half of Jay-Z’s verse in the song). 
> 
> -One thing I would like to discuss that I’ve noticed in my rewatch. In 1x10, around the 1-minute mark, there’s a shot of Eva ringing the doorbell with a sigh that says something like “Here lives Terje and Marianne Valtersen, Isak, and Lea”. “Lea”, who I would assuming is a sibling (and not a pet because that would be a bit much) is never mentioned again (to my knowledge) outside of this so I’m not so sure what to do with it. It’s very possible I write this and then rewrite it later (potentially post-season 4, depending on who the lead is) to fix the continuity errors. 
> 
> -If the dialogue looks familiar, that’s because selections of it are taken from scenes in the show. The way I’ve been writing, I watch the episode, transcribe the bits where Isak is talking (and use those bits 80% of the time) and then go back and fill in the missing gaps. This chapter is a long one. Full disclosure, once I went back to rewrite and add more things in, this chapter went from 4,000 words to +9,000. 
> 
> -Bob’s Burgers is an American animated TV show. Unlike American Dad and Family Guy, it actually manages to be funny without being offensive. A++ Bob’s Burgers, I love y’all.
> 
> -I feel like this chapter has been consuming me for days. I rewrote the part where Isra goes to Jonas when he's upset three different times. I rewrote Isra's bit after her father leaves four times. I'm still not sure if I'm 100% happy with either one, but I'm significantly happier than I was with the first versions.
> 
> -Come find me on tumblr. My theme's a shit show right now but I'm friendly and also answer questions about this fic and updates on there. http://frutescence.tumblr.com 
> 
> -It's now 1:26 AM EST, which means it's Christmas where I live! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to all who celebrate. Thanks for the love and support, your comments honestly make my day.
> 
> -UPDATE: At 18,400, this fic is officially one of the longest in the Skam fandom. I'm in disbelief. Thanks fam, I couldn't do it without y'all.


	5. And You Laugh Like You've Never Been Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: Drinking, recreational drug use, sexual content, mention of life-threatening illness (more details in end notes)

Christmas is difficult.

 _Christmas is always difficult if your family’s fucked up,_ Isra supposes, but she thinks this difficulty is only compounded when your mother and father are barely on speaking terms and every time your parents look at you it seems like you can feel the shame in their eyes.

Her dad keeps texting her, and the majority of the time she doesn’t bother to respond. She doesn’t see a point.

 

_Fra Pappa (20.12.15 18:53:02)_

_Isra – please let me know your holiday plans with your mother. Farmor and farfar would like to see you at some point, and I would as well. God Jul. Love you._

 

She realizes, with a sigh, that it’s probably time for her to face her father.

 

_Fra Isra (20.12.15 20:59:34)_

_I’m done with school, we could meet up tomorrow if you’d like?_

 

He texts back an affirmative, and the two of them agree to meet up the day before Christmas Eve at a _Starbucks_ of all places.

She arrives there eight minutes past their agreed meeting time and spots her father. He’s sitting in one of the pairs of chairs that litter the café, which is centered in the middle of a mall, and he’s got his drink and a water bottle sitting on the smaller table between the two chairs. She drops her bag in the chair opposite him, offers a quick hello and grabs her wallet and heads to order.

They sit across from each other at a tiny table at the Oslo City Starbucks, her father with his Venti coffee (straight up, 2 sugars, some cream) and her with her untouched tall gingerbread latte.

They sit in stilted silence as Isra settles into the chair opposite him. Terje begins to speak. “Isra-“

“I don’t want to talk about why you left.” She cuts in, final. She thinks she understands it, understands it in the way that all she’s felt like doing for years is _running._ She understands his motives, but can’t forgive him for abandoning her.

_(It’s not that she’s running from her mother. It’s more that she’s running from her past, from the memories stored in that house, and what they represent. She wants to run from the ghosts of what her family used to be, and what they could have been.)_

Terje nods, leans back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “I understand.” He pauses, seems to be struggling with what to say. “How are you? How is your mother?”

Isra takes a sip of her gingerbread latte, and makes a face. It’s far too sweet, and she wonders yet again _why they were meeting at a Starbucks._ It’s not like Oslo had a shortage of cafés.

“Mom’s fine.” She says, holding her mug between her hands. _She’s fine in the way she just sits and stares at the wall some days._ Or _she’s fine in the way that she’s been reading the bible now more than ever._ Or _she’s fine in the way that Mona has considered taking her to a psychologist to deal with her fairly obvious issues that only seem to be getting worse._

_(“I’m going to try to convince your mother to see a therapist,” Mona had told her the other day in the kitchen._

_Isra had merely nodded, because there’s no way a shrink could make her mother_ worse _than she already had. She grabbed the apple she had come downstairs to get and promptly turned away, choosing not to acknowledge her aunt further.)_

Her father nods, looks at his drink, looks at the child sitting a few feet away from them, looks anywhere but at her. “That’s good, that’s good.” He looks up, makes eye contact with her for the first time. “How are you?”

Isra looks away. She can’t handle the eye contact, knows her father wants to know the truth but knows he can’t handle it. _I’ve never felt so lost or alone in my life,_ she wants to scream, but she knows she can’t. She feels like either running away or screaming 90% of the time. “I’m fine.”

Her father nods, takes another sip of his drink. “What do you want to do for Christmas?” He asks, and she pauses. He’s never really asked her what she wants for Christmas, always just gotten her some sort of trinket or whatever that he picked up in his spare time.

 _(It’s a sign that he’s at least trying.)_  

*          *          *

In the end, on the 23rd, Isra goes to her Mormor and Morfar’s with her mother in Asker. They sit; Isra builds a gingerbread house with her uncle Erik.

Erik was an early-30s man who lived in London at a financing corporation and lived with his girlfriend. Overall, she doesn’t see him a lot, but he’s by far the most lighthearted of the family and she appreciates his presence.

As a family, they eat risengrynsgrø and drink champagne and keep the topics light – Erik’s new girlfriend (a Welsh girl named Sian), football teams, upcoming prospects for the 2016 Olympics, Marianne’s work.

At one point, after they’ve finished dinner, she’s clearing dishes and handing them off to her grandmother whose washing when her grandmother pipes up from her place by the sink. “What are you doing tomorrow, _barnebann?”_

Isra pauses, leans against the sink and watches her grandmother wash dishes. Her grandmother is short, shorter than Isra’s mother, even (and Isra’s had a solid 3 inches on her mother for a few years now). Her hair has gone grey, a trademark of her late-60s, but she has the telltale smile lines that betray her past happiness. Her face, now, is screwed into lines of worry.

“Um, mamma and I are going to mass,” she staggers out, eventually, “And then I’m going with _pappa_ to _farfar_ and _farmor’s_.”

Her grandmother nods, finishes scrubbing a plate, and turns to study her granddaughter. “I know things have not been easy for you, my dear, especially with your parents as of late. I think-”

“Did Mona tell you her plan to get mamma to see a therapist?” Isra interrupts, closing her eyes for a second.

Her grandmother looks at her in confusing, before turning back to the dishes. “No, she didn’t. However,” she pauses, clearly searching for the right words. “I think it’s important to understand that your mother’s…condition, as it is, is only getting worse.” Her grandmother hesitates. “I think Mona’s concerned that Marianne and her… _illusions,_ as they are, may lead to Marianne hurting herself or someone else anytime soon.” _Or her chance of her hurting you, Isra_ goes unsaid, but it echoes through their silence all the same.

“That’s, that’s- _insane,_ Mormor, you have to know, I know Mom and I aren’t close like we used to be and we’ve both said some things, but-“

“Shh, my dear,” her grandmother walks over to her, reaching up to put her hands, still wet from the sink, on Isra’s shoulders. “No one thinks she will. You know Mona, she worries.” Her grandmother gives her a forced smile. ”God Jul, after all.”

_(As Isra and her mother are leaving, her grandparents press an envelope into her hands, kiss her on the cheek and offer her hugs, and it takes an additional ten minutes for Isra and her mother to walk out the door._

_Isra opens the envelope, later, when she’s back in her room, with its haphazardly placed glow in the dark stars and hand painted clouds._

_In the envelope is a check for 80.000 kr. Isra’s eyes widen in surprise._

_Attached to it is a note, which reads:_

_Beloved Isra -  
We know home is not always the easiest place to be. Should you like, our home will always be open to you. But should you feel the need to leave home (but ideally stay in Oslo) then this should help you on your way. Call us if you ever need anything. _

_Love always_

_Mormor, Morfar, Mona, & Erik_

_Isra doesn’t even notice the silent tears rolling down her face until much later.)_

*          *          *

Christmas mass is one of the strangest experiences in Isra’s life. She means that in a way, Isra feels so incredibly uncomfortable being there and this is quite clearly her mother’s second home.

From the second they walk in, Marianne is greeted by name by every single person they encounter. Hoards of people walk up to her, ask her about her week, ask her about her prayer that day. For every encounter there is the same moment of “ _OH, you must be Isra!”_ and she somehow can’t seem to reconcile this image of her mother with the image of her mother she’s used to. More than that, she can’t comprehend that her mother has clearly told them all enough about her that they all know her by name. It makes her feel uneasy.

_(The mother she knows spends her time quietly hunched over a bible, rapidly turning pages, with a rosary in one hand and a pen for note taking in the other. This woman is social, happy, asking these people detailed questions about their weeks, their home lives, their children, and Isra can’t help but feel the pang of jealousy at her mother’s involvement in their lives and her increasing absence in hers.)_

Isra doesn’t pay attention to most of the service, mainly stares blankly ahead and just embraces the white noise, tries to tune out the general discomfort she feels at being in church.

_(She can’t pinpoint when exactly she started to feel uncomfortable in churches, instead of just indifferent. Her skin feels like it’s crawling and she’s never felt a greater urge to run out of a building, but she forces herself to stay, for her mamma.)_

_(Her mother doesn’t stop smiling the whole service, and at one point, looks from Isra to the cross, seemingly in disbelief that these two things of hers have somehow combined, and she appears to be overcome with joy.)_

_(Isra can’t help but feel that she’s going to destroy her mother, one day.)_

*          *          * 

They go back home after church, Isra showering and getting changed quickly. Her father is picking her up at 16:30 to take her to her grandmother’s.

Isra’s sitting up on the counter in the bathroom, doing her makeup. She’s got on a flare-and-fit red dress on, complete with black boots and tights. She’s doing her eyeliner when her mother knocks on the door.

“Busy?” Her mother asks, peaking her head in. 

“No,” Isra responds, capping her eyeliner. “Just getting ready.”

Her mother nods, looking uncomfortable in the doorway of the bathroom. “Here,” her mother says, putting two small, wrapped objects on the little table by the door. “Since you won’t be here tonight.” 

Isra looks back at the mirror, stares at herself. This split Christmas type thing, managing her time between two parents and two separate families, is weird. _This is Christmas, now,_ she thinks to herself. “Thanks.” She responds, gives her mother a small smile, because the two of them no longer know how to act around one another.

Her mother nods, moves into the bathroom and places a hand on Isra’s shoulder. “You’re a very beautiful girl, Isra. I’m very proud of you.” Isra’s voice catches in her throat, and she has nothing to say to that. 

Her mother moves back to the doorway. “ _’Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.’”_

“Is that a bible quote?” She bites out, aggressively, unable to help herself.

“Yeah.” Her mother responds briskly, any moment of tenderness having passed. Her mother turns on her heel, and calls out “Enjoy your father’s” as she leaves.

*          *          * 

She opens the gift from her mother later, after she’s returned from dinner with her father and his parents and their way of awkward, stilted conversation that clearly ran in the family.

Her father and his parents all chipped in to buy her a new laptop. “ _You’ve had your old one for so long, we figured you could use a new one,”_ her father had said with a forced smile as his parents nodded in agreement, but it still felt like a bribe, an apology, a _sorry for leaving_ gift that she wanted no part of.

She opens her mother’s gifts sitting in her room surrounded by her clouds and her glow-in-the-dark stars. Her mother’s given her a succulent potted in a mug and a wooden cross with a rose on it.

_(She slides the cross in a forgotten box under her bed, but she puts the succulent right on her bedside table, and falls asleep with a small smile and the Bastille version of[“O Holy Night”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Plu7hNalCEY) that Erik had played for her the night before stuck in her head.)_

*          *          * 

After Christmas, the days begin to get longer, and time feels as if it’s moving faster.

Mahdi leaves them all to go study abroad in New Zealand for the semester, grinning about the warm weather and longer days and saying that he’ll see everyone in August, and Elias, though he was always more Jonas’s friend than anyone else’s, begins to fade from their lives.

Isra’s aunt is visiting about once every other week, using money she doesn’t have and raking up miles she doesn’t need in an effort to ensure that Marianne doesn’t get any crazier than she already is. 

_(Isra is already spending more and more time out of the house. Christmas was a good try, for the two of them, but in the end it changed nothing.)_

And slowly, winter gives way to March.

They’re at a party hosted by one of the second years. Isra, Magnus, and Jonas are sitting in the backyard on a bench halfway towards the fence that ran along the house; all of them bundled in their coats and smoking weed.

Magnus lights the joint, takes a hit, and passes it off to Isra as he points to a random girl across the yard. “That girl, right there.”

Isra makes a face at him as she takes a hit. “What?”

“I’m going to get with her.” Magnus grins as Jonas snorts. “What?”

“Good luck,” Jonas mutters, holding his hand out to Isra, motioning for the joint. “I’m going after Isabel.”

“The _third year?”_ Magnus asks, and Jonas only nods. “Isra, who are you going after?” 

Both of them turn to her. “Oh, um, probably no one.” She replies, staring off at the fence at the opposite side of the yard. “I think I’ll just hang around.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “You _never_ go for anyone!”

Jonas nods. “That true. I don’t think you’ve gone for…anyone, since maybe this summer?”

Isra scoffs at him. “I go for people all the time.”

Jonas raises an eyebrow at her. “Oh really? Who? The last relationship you had was with Sara’s brother Anders, and that was like, _two years ago.”_

Isra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and Anders and I broke up because he was too immature.” She had dated him for the briefest of times in Year 10, but the two of them had soon realized it wasn’t working out. He had felt that she wasn’t really committed, which was true. So they parted ways, and Anders wasted no time calling her a slut who couldn’t commit to the whole school.

“Well, if you want to bring that back,” Jonas quirks his head towards the door, “look who just walked outside.”

Anders Nørrstelien, Isra quickly noted to herself, had gotten taller since their last meeting, but he was still extremely skinny. As opposed to Year 10, when he was roughly an inch or so taller than her, now he must be at least four or five inches taller. He was wearing a grey button up and black jeans, and he had styled his blonde hair. She had to admit, it was a good look for him. Overall, however, he still looked alarmingly like Sara, despite the fact that he was 10 months older than her and scraped by as being one of the oldest in the year whereas Sara was one of the youngest. 

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” Isra proclaims, standing up and throwing the lighter down at Jonas. She smoothed her skirt (black, complementing the maroon sweater she was wearing), and quickly stole Jonas’s red snapback to his protests before strutting up to Anders. 

She walks up being him and “accidentally” fell into him as Jonas and Magnus stifled laughter from their position. “Oh my god, I’m –Anders!” She proclaimed, as he looked up in surprise. She smiled up at him and put her hand on his chest. “How are you? It’s been _such_ a long time.”

She knew she was laying it on thick, wasn’t really the best at flirting, but she was prepared to use what she knew. “Isra!” Anders let out a light laugh. “It’s been so long!” 

“How is drama? I hardly see you anymore since I’m in general studies.” Isra asks, moving her hand up to his shoulder and staring at him through her lashes. _Him and Sara even have the same face, and isn’t_ that _a weird thing to think about._

Anders nods, looks back towards the house at someone that must be over her head. “Drama’s good, lot of interesting things going on.” He looks back down at her, grinning. “What do you say we go dance?” 

“Only if we stop for drinks on the way.” She replies, and Anders slides a hand to rest at the small of her back as they walk back into the place.

They go towards the table that’s been designated as the bar area and Isra does two shots with Anders and does two more shots as he’s turned around because she doesn’t think she’s felt interested in a guy in literal _years,_ but if she’s going to convince people that she’s into Anders, she needs to be drunk for it.

They move towards the center of the room as some remix of a Chainsmokers song plays overhead.

[ _“Oh, I'll be your daydream, I'll wear your favorite things_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _We could be beautiful_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Get drunk on the good life, I'll take you to paradise_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Say you'll never let me go_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Deep in my bones, I can feel you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Take me back to a time only we knew_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Hideaway_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _We could waste the night with an old film_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Smoke a little weed on my couch in the back room_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Hideaway_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

[ _Say you'll never let me go”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OjsCcexDsw)

 

Anders moves closer to her, wraps his arms around her waste as she sliders hers around the back of her neck as they press their bodies together.

They’re staring at each other, close for the first time in years. Anders leans down and kisses her.

And Isra feels…nothing.

Even crossfaded, as she undeniably is at this point, she doesn’t feel even the slightest bit of sexual attraction towards Anders. She’s sure he’s an attractive guy, has heard the way that other girls talk about him. So why is she _bored_ right now?

Her and Anders continue hooking up in the center of the room for a few more songs before he leans in, inches from her ear. “ _You want to go somewhere else?”_

“ _Sure.”_ She yells back, over the music, as he grabs her arm at the elbow and steers him out of the room towards a bathroom.

The bathroom is empty, but strewn bottles on the floor clearly show that people have been in here before them. Anders turns back towards him, his blue eyes sparkling as he pushes her against the door, kissing her against the door. 

The music bleeds through the door, and Isra chooses to focus on that instead of what they’re doing right now because she knows she should be into kissing Anders, but honestly, she’s not.

The song is some remix of a Calvin Harris song that she’s only ever heard at parties.

 

[ _“I want you to breathe me in_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _Let me be your air_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _Let me roam your body freely_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _No inhibition, no fear_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _How deep is your love?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _Is it like the ocean?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _What devotion are you?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _How deep is your love?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _Is it like nirvana?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _Hit me harder, again_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

[ _How deep is your love?”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvs9FzGzf8A)

“I’ve got an idea of where else your mouth could be good.” He whispers in her ear, stroking his thumb and index finger along her chin. 

She doesn’t want to do it, isn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of a dick being shoved down her throat, but says no more, grins up at him like she’s excited about it and flips their position so that he’s now leaning against the wall. “Don’t come in my mouth,” she says to him as he laughs, and she moves to undo his pants. 

( _She’s only willing to put on so great a façade, after all.)_  

It’s not that blowing him is the worst experience of her life. She’s blown a few guys before, had blown Anders the last time they dated and it’s always been the same. It’s _boring._

When Anders finishes, she stands back up and looks at herself in the mirror, grabs a towel and quickly rubs off the lipstick that’s now smeared around her mouth.

“You look so hot,” Anders murmurs to her, pressing up against her back as he wraps his arms around her waist. “You never looked this hot when we dated.”

“Yeah, well, you were about half a foot shorter and your voice was two octaves higher when we dated, so I guess we’ve both changed.” She bites back before she really thinks it through, but she can feel Anders’s silent laugh from where he’s pressed against her.

“What do you say we get out of here? Go back to mine?” He says, biting down on her ear.

She touches the side of his face and kisses him. “Just give me a second to tell Jonas and I’m yours.”

He nearly rolls his eyes as he drops his arms from around her. “Two years and you’ve _still_ got Jonas as your keeper?”

“He’s not my keeper,” she grits back, “but I came with him so I should probably let him know so he doesn’t think you’ve murdered me or something.” She opens the door, pauses, and turns to him. “What will Sara say?” She quirks an eyebrow at him.

He grins back at her, unconcerned. “I’ll tell Sara to mind her own damn business.”

Isra laughs as she shuts the door, but she can’t shake the feeling of unease that she’s had this whole evening.

She finds Jonas in a corner, talking to _Elias_ of all people. Isra stumbles a little on her walk over to them, ignores Elias and turns to speak solely to Jonas. “I’m going with Anders.” She says.

Jonas raises his eyebrows at her in confusion. “Anders Nørrstelien?” He nearly yells. “Isra, I was joking.”

Isra shrugs. “You said I never went for anyone.”

Jonas stares at her in disbelief, seeming to struggle for words. “Yeah, and you’re your own person with your life, but _Anders?_ Is, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That’s true.” Elias cuts in, because he’s an asshole.

Isra waves them off. “Whatever, I’ll text you tomorrow.’ 

She walks away from them; finds Anders near the door where he’s gotten her coat. “Aw, so sweet, you know which coat is mine.” 

“You’ve written your name in it,” he says in response, and squeezes her ass on their way out the door. 

*          *          * 

She has sex with him, in the end, and she feels nothing other than slight discomfort because she is not turned on at _all._

_(She wonders if it’s just Anders, wonders if she’d have had the same response with Elias or someone else.)_

On her way out the door Sunday morning, Anders kisses her on the forehead and promises to see her at school the next day. Isra walks out wearing the clothes she wore the night before. She runs into Sara in the hallway, whose face is a mix of confusion swirled with disgust.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket as she’s leaving the building. Anders must have put his number in his phone at some point last night.

 

_Fra Anders ;-) (Søndag 12:32:15)_

_I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night. Fun that I haven’t had in 2 years. What do you say we give dating (and sex) another go sometime?_

 

She hesitates. All of last night she felt indifferent, at best. She also had the striking suspicion she shouldn’t have to be near-blackout drunk in order to have sex with a guy.

But then she remembers Magnus’s _“You never go for guys”_ comment, remembers Jonas’s nod in affirmation, and texts Anders back.

 

_Fra Isra (Søndag 12:41:53)_

_Sure, I’d love to_ _J let me know a time and a place and I’ll do my best to be there._

 

She also shoots off a text to Jonas, like she had promised the night before. 

 

_Til Jonas (Søndag 12:45:29)_

_On my way back home from Ander’s. Don’t worry, I didn’t die._

 

She pauses, thinks about the merits of telling her in person tomorrow versus texting and telling him now. She decides to just tell him now, give him time to think it over.

 

_Til Jonas (Søndag 12:46:59)_

_Also Anders and I are dating/having sex again._

_Fra Jonas (Søndag 12:47:06)_

_ISRA_

_Fra Jonas (Søndag 12:47:32)_

_WHY_

*          *          *

  
Dating Anders again is different than she had thought it would be.

She shows up at school the next day, is nearly cornered by Jonas, who isn’t mad at her, per se, but is just seemingly confused. He pulls her inside by the staircase. 

“You don’t talk to this boy for _two years,”_ Jonas grits through his teeth, “Because he’s an asshole, and because he told everyone you were a whore when you guys broke up. _And now you’re back with him?”_

Isra nearly rolls her eyes at him. “Jonas, this is fucking hypocritical of you-“

“No it’s not!” he exclaims, his eyebrows raised so high she was surprised they hadn’t jumped straight off of his face at this pint. “This is different. You’ve seen what Sara and Ingrid do to people.”

Isra stares at him. “ _You dated Ingrid and cheated on her.”_

Jonas is moving his hands around now, too. “That was different! This, Isra, Anders isn’t _a good guy,_ you _know this,_ fuck, he made you have sex when you were _14 and didn’t want to,_ Isra-“ 

“That is _none_ of your business.” Isra snaps, moving up into Jonas’s face. “You know nothing about that.” 

“Oh, I don’t?” Jonas scoffs. “Oh really? Because-“

“Jonas, stop being an _asshole_ about this.” She nearly spits. “It’s none of your business. Leave me alone. I’m going to class.”

She turns on her heels, leaving Jonas behind as she walks to Norwegian.

Anders, they discussed Saturday night, is actually in her Norwegian class. He meets her by the doorway and slips an arm around her waist as he draws her to the corner of the room. 

They stand there for a few minutes, alternating between kissing every few seconds and just sort of staring at each other, whispering as people file into the room.  
  
They stand there a little too long, because their teacher, a young, brunette woman who was maybe an inch or two shorter than Isra comes up to them. “Miss Valtersen! Mister Nørrstelien!” 

Isra goes to move farther apart, but Anders keeps a hand on her shoulder as their teacher beings to scold them. “…Disrespectful! This is not appropriate conduct for a classroom; the two of you should know better. Please restrict your personal life to your personal spaces, and _not_ my classes.”

“Yes, sorry.” Anders responds, grinning at their teacher as the two of them move to take their seats. 

*          *          * 

Their relationship doesn’t really progress, stalls at the extent of PDA and weekend-related hookups and sex at Anders’s (because no matter how much Sara hated seeing her afterwards, there was no chance of them ever going back to Isra’s).

Anders thinks that Isra spends too much time with Jonas, even though she’s been spending significantly less time with him since the two of them started dating, enough that when Jonas asks Isra to _please_ come watch Netflix with him and Eva so it’s not just the two of them (“ _We’re watching Fresh Prince of Bel-Air! You love Fresh Prince!”),_ even when Jonas asks her for help with the ’00 girl he’s trying to get with, she always says no, goes to spend time with Anders and watch episodes of _That 70’s Show_ with him.

_(She doesn’t even like That 70’s Show, and she thinks Laura Prepon looked better in Orange is the New Black with black hair.)_

She thinks Anders is secretly jealous of Jonas, thinks that Anders believes that the two of them have had sex or are continuously fucking or whatever. 

( _Really,_ she wonders, _when will people learn to understand the meaning of the word “_ platonic” _?)_

And then, Jonas texts her, and she thanks the God that she’s not really sure she believes in anymore that _Anders_ isn’t there when she gets them.

 

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 16:57:28)_

_Are you coming to the third year party tonight?_

_Fra Isra (Fredag 17:05:12)_

_No, Anders and I are doing something with his friends_

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 17:06:01)_

_Ugh, Anders._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 17:08:53)_

_Okay, I’m going to be completely straight with you: how do I get a girl to come?_

_Fra Isra (Fredag 17:09:02)_

_????_

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 17:12:53)_

_Like, in sex. How do I get a girl to come if normal sex doesn’t do it?_

_Fra Isra (Fredag 17:14:45)_

_Um. Your best bet is probably a combination of fingering/going down on her._

_Fra Jonas (Fredag 17:15:32)_

_Duly noted. Tusen takk._

 

*          *          *

_Fra Jonas (Lørdag 03:12:57)_

_She came, in case you wanted an update. I think she was surprised enough that I went down on her that she wants to go on a date now._

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 03:32:16)_

_Thanks for this update on your sex life that I definitely needed RIGHT NOW! THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING. I was losing sleep over it. Now that you’ve let me know that your sex life still exists, I can rest easy._

*          *          *

School on Monday is both amazing and horrifying.

Somehow, _everybody_ knows that Jonas went down on Isabel, and Isra nearly shits herself with laughter. Everyone stares at him _constantly,_ and it has Jonas freaked.

“…And I go up to Eva, and she’s there with like, Ingrid, Sana, Noora, Vilde, Sara, and all the others, and I say Happy Women’s Day, like any respectable guy, and they all just _stare at me.”_ They’re at lunch, and her, Jonas, and Magnus are crowded around a table. Isra is eating a sandwich she made last night, trying not to laugh as Jonas tells this story.

“And then, out of nowhere, Sana practically yells ‘SO WHAT CLASS DOES EVERYONE HAVE’, and everybody _leaves.”_ Jonas looks exasperated. “I don’t understand." 

Isra leans across the table to pat Jonas on the shoulder. “Jonas. My dude. My best friend. Listen to me.” She clasps her hands together, leans across the table and speaks with a low voice. “Every girl is in disbelief that a _guy from our school_ went down on a girl. And it was you, a first year, with Isabel, who is one of the most well known third years. People are impressed with you.” 

Jonas leans back, almost preening. “You really think so?”

Isra scoffs at him. “If I could get a guy to go down on me, it would constitute a fucking miracle.”

Jonas stares at her. “Are you telling me that no guy has ever gone down on you?”

“Great lunch conversation, guys.” Magnus cuts in, munching on some chips. “Really great. Glad I’m here. Love you all.”

Isra shakes her head at Jonas, and reaches out to pat Magnus on the shoulder. He’ll get laid, one day. “No guy I’ve been with has ever had the balls to reciprocate.” 

Jonas stares at her in disbelief. “I’m so sorry.”

Isra nods, checks her watch. “I’ve got to go.”

“Meeting with Anders?” Jonas asks, looking unhappy.

“No, I’m working on a chemistry project.” She responds, and turns on her heel out of the room. “Stop shitting on my relationship!” She calls back at them as she leaves. 

*          *          *

As it turns out, it doesn’t even matter that Isra has been ditching Jonas and Magnus for Anders, because Anders dumps her the following weekend, through text message of all things.

 

_Fra Anders ;-) (Lørdag 07:11:41)_

_Hey Isra. I think we gave it a good go, but it’s not really working out. Neither of us are really into this relationship. I think we should stop seeing each other._

It’s not a good text to wake up to, and it immediately puts her in a bad mood. Between that and her mother blasting something on the television downstairs, she feels the sudden urge to move, do anything. To make things worse, Jonas is visiting family in Spain this weekend, so she can’t even go play FIFA or smoke with him.

                            

_Til Jonas_

_Anders broke up with me. Do you have Elias’s number?_

_Til Isra_

_Are you smoking with Elias? Fuck Anders, he doesn’t deserve you. Call me if you want/need to, nothing’s going on here that I couldn’t take a break from. Love you_.

 

Attached is Elias’s contact info, and she ignores Jonas’s question and quickly shoots Anders a text.

 

_Til Elias (Lørdag 10:03:27)_

_Is your offer to smoke and have sex from autumn still on the table?_

 

His response comes through a few minutes later.

_Til Isra (Lørdag 10:10:54)_

_Thought you were with Nørrstelien now._

_Til Elias (Lørdag 10:11:26)_

_That’s finished._

Silence. And then his response comes through.

_Til Isra (Lørdag 10:20:59)_

_I’m home all day, come by whenever._

_*          *          *_

She arrives at Elias’s apartment a few minutes after 13:00, wearing a denim skirt, sweater, and beanie under her winter coat 

As usual, Elias is blasting music loud enough for the entire building to hear. She buzzes down below and of course he makes her _wait_ an absurd amount of time before buzzing her in.

 

[ _“…And there's nothing wrong with me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _This is how I'm supposed to be_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _In a land of make believe_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _That don't believe in me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _Get my television fix_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _Sitting on my crucifix_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _The living room in my private womb_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _While the Moms and brats are away_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _To fall in love and fall in debt_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _To alcohol and cigarettes_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _And Mary Jane_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _To keep me insane_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _Doing someone else's cocaine_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _And there's nothing wrong with me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _This is how I'm supposed to be_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _In a land of make believe_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

[ _That don't believe in me…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMcNzjzw63I)

“Hey.” She says, dropping her bag by the door and moving further into the room. Elias is sitting on the couch, writing something on a clipboard.  
  
Everything is in boxes, either sealed away or semi-packed. “Moving somewhere?” She asks. She hadn’t really talked to Elias since the cabin, and he had always been more of Jonas’s friend than hers, anyways. She hadn’t really felt the need to keep up with him. 

Elias looks up at her, puts up a smile that he quickly drops. “Yeah, actually.” He pauses, debates saying more. Finally, he continues. “My mom lives in Stockholm. She’s been ill recently, so I’m moving to be with her.”

Isra nods, runs a hand along the stack of boxes to her left. “I’m sorry about your mom.” 

He looks at her and tosses his clipboard on the table next to the couch. “Nothing to be done about it, now.” He says. “You wanted to smoke?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just walks out of the living room into his room.

She follows him. Isra had only been in his room once or twice before. The room looked nothing like it had in the past; now, his window was fully opened, despite the Oslo cold, and everything besides his bed lay packed in boxes, with only a few posters still up on the wall.

He reaches into a bag on the floor, pulls out a joint for her and a joint for him, and reaches in his pocket for a lighter. Isra doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re clearly going to both smoke a full joint by themselves when normally they would just share one because she’s having one of _those_ kinds of days, and it’s clear that Elias is, too.

Elias moves towards the open window and sits below it, his back pressed against the wall. Isra moves and sits next to him as Elias holds her joint and his lighter out to her.

There’s a certain sort of peace that comes with weed, she thinks. When everything is moving too fast, it slows the world down, makes everything feel more relaxed and easy.

They sit there in relative silence, each smoking, passing the lighter when their flames die out.

Finally, Elias flicks the dregs of his joint out the window. “You still want to do this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised at her in disbelief.

She doesn’t respond, merely flicks the miniscule remnants of her joint out the window and moves towards him, kissing him.

Elias reaches up, fists his hand in her hair, and moves them towards the bed.

 

*          *          *

 

They stay in his bed afterwards, both of them staring at the ceiling.

 

[ _“...So won't you send me, your location let_ _s_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

[ _Focus on communicating 'cause_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

[ _I just need the time and place to come through_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

[ _Send me your location lets_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

[ _Ride the vibrations_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

[ _I don't need nothing else but you…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bbRsa-Y9E)

“That was good.” Elias said, after a pause. “After two years, I didn’t really ever think it would happen.” 

Isra doesn’t know if Elias expected her to say something, but she just lies there as Elias continues talking. “You know, I always thought you were a lesbian. Something about the way you act, the way you dress. Not many straight girls were snapbacks.” He looks to her, but she doesn’t say anything. “I used to make gay jokes about you to Jonas. He would brush it off in the early days, says ‘it’s just a joke’ or whatever. But I made one a few months back and he snapped at me. Nearly bit my head off spewing shit about ‘disrespect’ and ‘homophobia’. I thought it was because he had finally realized that the jokes were rooted in truth.” He looks at her. “I’m glad you’re probably not a lesbian, at the very least.”

Isra doesn’t respond. She has nothing to say.

_(She almost expected to feel more during sex with Elias, but she was just as indifferent to it as she had been with Anders.)_

_(Elias, to his credit, had reciprocated her blowjob by going down on her. “I want to see what all the hype surrounding Jonas is about, especially since your fuckhead ex didn’t take full advantage of you, clearly,” he had said, grinning after she had told him that Anders had never gone down on her. She had to admit she was surprised. She had never come during sex before, but even then, she still felt emotionally detached from the whole situation. Isra couldn’t help but wonder what was_ wrong _with her?)_

“Enjoy Sweden.” Isra says to him as Elias walks her to the door. He’s got his jeans back on, but he’s barefoot and shirtless as he leans against the open doorframe, looking down at her. He holds his arm out for a hug. They’re never been at this level, but it’s probably one of the last times she’ll see him, so she indulges him, hugs him back. 

She takes the long way home, walks the entire route from Elias’s back to her house. It’ll take her much longer, this way, but she’s got a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: Drinking, recreational drug use, sexual content, mention of life-threatening illness  
> 1\. Isra downs 4 shots at a party 2. Isra, Jonas, and Magnus go smoke weed outside at a party 3. Isra gives Anders a blowjob in the bathroom. It’s not graphic, but it’s clear she’s not interested in doing it and that she’s only really doing it for his sake (same deal later when she has sex with Elias). 4. Isra goes and smokes with Elias after Anders breaks up with her and the two of them go and have sex. 
> 
> -Title is from “Bones” by Ben Howard
> 
> -In 2x01, Isak is dating Sara. Since Isak is effectively using Sara as a beard, Sara was added to have an older brother (Anders) who effectively functions in a similar capacity. I didn’t want to just make it some random person because even though Eva and Ingrid and Sara are fine now, I feel like it still probably stings/makes things awkward for Eva to see them together
> 
> -God Jul means Merry Christmas
> 
> -Farmor and Farfar mean “Father’s mother” and “father’s father”, respectively. According to Google, it’s what you call grandparents in Norwegian. 
> 
> -80.000 kr is roughly $9,200 USD.
> 
> -Isra’s mom quotes Luke 2:10. “But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.”
> 
> -Bastille version of O Holy Night is A++, and it tends to get a lot of airtime here in the US. Since they’re a British band, I figured Erik probably knows about this version. 
> 
>  
> 
> -In order to compensate for the fact that Mahdi wasn’t actually in Seasons 1 or 2 (unlike Magnus), he’s being written out for this season ☹ (especially since in S3 when they’re all smoking he makes the “Who even are you people” joke) 
> 
> -The song Isra hears with Anders is “Roses – King Arthur Remix” by The Chainsmokers and ROZES.
> 
> -The second song played at the party is “How Deep is Your Love – Chris Lake Remix” by Calvin Harris, Disciples, and Chris Lake
> 
> -“Tusen Takk” means Thank you
> 
> -The song playing in Elias’s apartment is “Jesus of Suburbia” by Green Day 
> 
> -The song playing when Elias and Isra are post-sex is “Location” by Khalid
> 
> -In the queer community, there’s this common notion that, often when people are in the process of coming out/ struggling with their identity, they start behaving differently with a lot of at-risk behaviors as maladaptive coping strategies, such as substance abuse, self-blame, or dissociation. I think a lot of this explains Isak in the show so I’ve chosen to include that in this fic. Some of this is based on the experiences I’ve had as a young queer woman (because I was maybe ~14-16 when I started really struggling with coming out) and the experiences that friends of mine have had. I’m pretty sure that’s also where the “queer mentor” thing comes in – in my experience, we all know how hard it is when you’re first coming to terms with your sexual orientation and how much easier it is when you have someone to talk and look up to. Often times, it is not glamorous and it is not pretty, and we saw pieces of that in the show, but since this is from Isak/Isra's point of view, expect to see even more of it. 
> 
> -I likely won't post again before New Years (though the chapter outline for the next chapter is finished and all that's left to do is write it), so I hope everyone has a wonderful 2017 and PLEASE be safe and make good choices on New Years Eve. Love you all.


	6. Dissolving Like The Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***NOTE: This chapter had to be deleted and re-uploaded because due to a formatting thing that didn't carry over from Word, only the first half of the chapter would post. 
> 
> So, for those that read an earlier version, there is newer material you haven't read in here as well!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: mentions of Nazis, homophobia, vomiting, fire, racist slurs, details of Yakuza/Riot fight in 2x07/2x08, violence, blood mentions

She’s standing at the arrivals gate of Gardermoen playing _Super Mario Run_ on her phone when she suddenly feels three small _somethings_ barrel into her legs.

She nearly falls over at the impact as her cousins begin yelling up at her.

Isra can’t help but grin as she looks down at her little cousins, now all looking up at her with wonder and excitement as they continue to yell up at her in three different languages. “ _ISA!” “-ON THE PLANE THERE WAS THIS GUY-“ “ICELAND IS COLD BUT NORWAY IS COLD TOO-“ “WHERE’S YOUR COAT-” “WHERE’S YOUR MOMMY-“_

Isra can’t help but grin as she kneels down on the ground. Her cousins waste no time, seize the opportunity to throw their arms around her. “I missed you guys!” Isra says, laughing.

They’d gotten so _big_ since she had last seen them. Katrín had cut her hair, her brown locks now stopped only slightly below her chin and she had a solid two inches on her brothers. Ari and Sveinn, identical twins with matching tufts of blonde hair, both had on similar green-and-blue striped shirts. 

“Let Isra breath, you guys.” Isra looks up and sees her aunt and uncle walking towards them, Mona trying to act serious but clearly hiding a smile and Nikolai not bothering to hide his delight.

Isra stands up, embraces her aunt and uncle. Nikolai was a bulky man, with typical Icelandic blue eyes and blonde hair. He dwarfed Mona whenever the two stood next to each other.

The ride from the airport to Isra’s house is loud, but exciting. She loves her cousins, loves their cuteness and their innocence. She doesn’t get to spend a lot of time with them. 

The trio likes to ask her questions. They’re extremely curious about Oslo, want to know it like they’ve learned to know Reykjavik after moving downtown earlier this year. They ask questions and tell her things in equal amount.

They tell her about the things they’re doing in school, and Isra asks them about their cat (which, according to Katrín, is brown and the prettiest cat she’s ever seen). They switch off between Icelandic and Norwegian with some English mixed in, with Mona and Nikolai serving to fill in the gaps where Isra couldn’t understand their Icelandic or Sveinn, Ari, and Katrín weren’t sure what her Norwegian meant.

They’re at the house, pulling suitcases out of the back of the rental car when Mona crouches down to talk to her children. “Alright, _börn,_ do we remember what I told you about _Frænka_ Marianne?”

Ari raised a hand. “You told us to be polite!”

Mona nods at him with a smile. “Yes, that’s good. Anyone else?”

Sveinn says, “Oh! I know! You said try not to make her sad.”

“Also to tell you or _pabbi_ if frænka seems sad or confused.” Katrín chimes in at last, timidly. Mona reaches out and strokes a hand through her daughter’s hair. 

“That’s right. Thank you guys so much.” Mona stood up and grabbed a bag out of the trunk, and made to move inside, her three children already running ahead.

Isra gently grabs her aunt’s arm as she moves to go inside. “Can I talk with you for a second?”

Mona nods, turns towards Isra. She instantly looks concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Isra hesitates, looking over at Sveinn, Ari and Katrín by the house. “Mamma’s getting worse.”

Mona’s eyebrows creased with worry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Isra says, searching for the right words, “I mean that yesterday she tried to convince me that Donald Trump was her brother. She quit her job, she hasn’t been working, and she watches _The Sound of Music_ and is convinced that Nazis are going to come invade our house.”

Mona sighs, runs her hand up and down Isra’s arm in an attempt at comfort. “I know. She called me to warn me about the Nazis the other week.”

“Mona-“

“Isra, my dear,” Mona starts, “there is nothing _you_ can do about it. I’m trying with your mother, I really am, but it’s hard being in Iceland with you both here.”

Isra nods. “I know.” 

“Maybe we should just worry about it later.” Mona suggests, and Isra sighs, because she can’t avoid her mother forever. 

*          *          * 

The week with her cousins is _amazing._ Mona spends most of her time with Marianne while Nikolai goes with Isra and the kids to explore Oslo.

They go to the Viking ship museum (where Ari decides he’s going to become a Viking and Nikolai just laughs and makes jokes about how it’s his birthright as an Icelander) and Akershus Fortress (where Katrín proclaims that she will live there one day and Sveinn spends the whole time talking about a puppy they had seen outside the entrance).

Her mother is preoccupied most of the weekend with Easter and religious services around it, and Isra spends most of Good Friday at a park with her cousins. It’s quiet (or as quiet as things can be with three 5 year olds around).

They have _påskelam_ on Saturday and the kids want to know more about Norway, want to know about how Norwegian works and what it’s like up north and winter time in Norway and _what do you do for fun Isa_ and _where are the reindeer_ and _does Santa live in Norway?_

After dinner, Isra, Mona, and Marianne make their way to midnight mass while Nikolai stays with the triplets. Mass follows in much of the same way that Christmas had, with Marianne greeting everyone by name, asking about their lives and interests, and Mona and Isra hanging awkwardly at the back, until people had the dawning recognition that Isra was her mother’s daughter and that Mona must be some sort of relative due to her striking similarities with Marianne, and then they had the conversation that essentially went: 

_“Oh, you must be Marianne’s daughter. And her sister!”_

_“Oh, you must be so proud of your mother!”_

Isra doesn’t pay attention to the sermon because she doesn’t see a point (and she thinks Mona tries, for Marianne’s sake, but gives up halfway through and just stares up at the giant cross overhead instead).

_(She wonders idly if her mother would be better or worse if she stopped attending church.)_

“Please, join in final prayer.” The pastor says at last, and the sound of people flipping turning the pages of their program rippled through the audience.

The congregation speaks in unison. “ _Easter reminds us that each time we deny you, Lord, another nail is sharpened; and each time we betray you, Lord, into your hand it’s hammered. When faith is weak, temptation strong and courage fails, forgive us, Lord and once again become that risen presence within our hearts. Amen”_

She feels a knot of anxiety building in her stomach as she thinks about _strong temptations_ and _betrayal_ and a host of other things she can’t help but thinks she must be doing.

_(It doesn’t ease up, not through Easter morning or her cousin’s departure. It just sits in the pit of her stomach, eating away at her.)_

_(No one notices if she’s quieter or not really eating during the holidays, anyways.)_

_(She wonders what her mother would think of her, now.)_  

_(School starts up again and Magnus and Jonas talk about this Penetrator fundraiser and they’re so excited but Isra can’t escape the sick feeling she has.)_

*          *          *

[ _“…It ain't my fault you keep turning me on_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _It ain't my fault you got, got me so gone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _It ain't my fault I'm not leavin' alone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _It ain't my fault you keep turning me on_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _I can't talk right now, I'm looking and I like what I'm seeing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _Got me feeling kinda shocked, right now_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

[ _Couldn't stop right now, even if I wanted…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl4PNq6A4BU)

 

Isra’s not thrilled to be at the Penetrator fundraiser. She had spent most of the day with a headache that made her want to crawl into bed and binge watch Netflix, and she only really agreed to go because all of the guys wanted to go. 

The three of them never really spent time together anymore. They had all pregamed at Magnus’s (which _never_ happened, because Magnus’s parents were always home) and then made their way to the fundraiser.

Jonas had split off to talk to Isabel and Magnus was talking with someone from his chemistry class while Isra left off getting another drink.

She moved through the room towards the bar, turning her body to avoid the wave of people. She grabbed a drink and turned to leave when suddenly someone was blocking her way. She looked up at the offender, feeling a little annoyed. “Hi.” She said to him.

He’s taller than her by at least a few inches, with brown hair and brown eyes to match. She has the distinct feeling that she’s seem him before. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing by yourself?”

“Wanting to get back to my friends, primarily.” She replies, looking up at him.

“You’re not even going to let me try to flirt a little?” He asks, grinning.

“My intention was to get a drink and go back to my friends, so.” She gestured out to the wider dance floor.

“Let me at least give you my phone number. In case you change your mind.” And then he _winks at her._

She stares at him. She’s seen him around before but can’t really remember his name. His brown hair is relatively short, but he’s grinning at her in a way that says _I’ve done this a hundred times before._

_(If he’s got a reputation for hooking up with random girls and never speaking to them again, then he could be useful to her.)_

She doesn’t say anything more, just unlocks her phone and holds it out to him. He quirks an eyebrow, and she smiles up at him in response.

He types in what she assumes is his contact info, and then brushes his hand against hers as he hands her phone back. “Have a good evening. Don’t forget to enter the hook up raffle!”

She rolls her eyes at him as she walks away, quickly looks down at her phone at the contact he just added. _Chris Schistad._

She shrugged a bit to herself as she locked her phone and began to sip at her drink. She made to move back towards Magnus, since Jonas was still with Isabel, but she quickly became sidetracked by a girl from her Norwegian class (Isra’s pretty sure her name is Laila) roping her into conversation when Isra was about halfway across the room from Magnus.

Lalia, Isra quickly notes, is prettier than she had noticed in class. She’s wearing a short, tight black dress, and her dark brown hair has been curled into soft waves. Lalia is clearly using Isra as a way out of a conversation with a guy (who is now diligently standing). Isra isn’t paying attention to whatever Lalia is saying. She’s staring at the guy hoping he gets the hint and leaves. It takes him a few minutes longer than it should, but he eventually huffs and turns away.

Lalia apparently doesn’t notice, just keeps talking as Isra looks around the room. Somewhere behind her there’s some kind of commotion – she darts a quick look behind her, doesn’t want Lalia to know she isn’t paying attention - all she can make out is that it’s Jonas, Isabel, and maybe Noora with someone else on the floor.

She turns back to Lalia, fully intent to actually start listening to the girl in front of her when suddenly someone crashes into her.

“- _ISRA, I MISS YOU!”_ Eva interrupts, throwing her arms around Isra and nearly knocking her over by force. 

Isra moves to wrap an arm around Eva on instinct. Eva’s stumbling and it really wouldn’t be good if she fell over and concussed herself. She shares a look with Noora, directly behind Eva, because it’s clear Eva is fucked up out of her mind.

“-And we never hang out anymore!” Eva continues. Isra looks at her, sees her drunken pout. “You’re so sweet, Isra.”

Noora moves to cut in and get Eva out of here because if Eva’s this drunk Noora’s probably concerned (with good reason), but Eva doesn’t let her speak. “I’ve really missed you, Isra,” Eva says, with all the sincerity she can muster.

Eva bridges the gap between them, starts kissing Isra on the cheek. _What is happening?_ Isra shakes her head, gently trying to get Eva off of her because now she’s just _confused_ as to what is happening. Eva is drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. “Eva-“

“What?” Eva says, moving closer towards Isra’s mouth. Isra has a moment where she thinks about just letting it happen, thinks about all the times over the summer when she thought about what it would be like to kiss Eva, what her lips would feel like on hers and what she would taste like.

And then Isra she remembers that Eva is plastered out of her mind, probably wouldn’t do this sober, and can’t consent when she’s had this much to drink. Isra wouldn’t be surprised if Eva didn’t remember this the next day. Isra decides she needs to end this, before it gets too far. “We’ll just drop it, Eva.”

Eva stops to stare at her for as second as Isra moves her hands, slowly pushing Eva off of her as gently as possible and back towards Noora, whose practically got her arms out ready to grab Eva. “Don’t you want to make out with me?”

Isra shakes her head, relieved that there’s now some distance between her and Eva, chooses not to think about the details of this situation. “No, I think we’ll just drop it.”

Eva tilts her head, stares at her quizzically. “But I thought you liked girls?”

Isra’s pretty sure that the room freezes, because she stops breathing for a second. She stares at Eva, probably stares at her for far too long with what must be a look of horror on her face because _if Eva knows, then other people must know too._

_(She’s not even sure what there IS to know, only knows that sex and hooking up with guys does nothing for her and that lesbian porn DOES do something for her and she’s been thinking about it for months but she hasn’t come to an answer she can bear to deal with.)_

“Um, where did you hear that?” She manages, means it to sound aggressive but her voice cracks halfway through and just sounds scared. Eva looks at her with sadness and confusion.

“Eva, we’re going to go get some water,” Noora cuts in, takes control of the situation, gives Isra a look that is filled with pity _._ Noora’s got a hand on Eva’s arm, trying to pull her away now.

Eva breaks eye contact, turns to Noora, who’s pulling her away. “ _Noora, why didn’t Isra want to kiss me?”_

Isra suddenly doesn’t feel like partying at all, shoots off a text to Magnus and Jonas to let them know that she’s leaving.

 _(She walks home even though it’s over five kilometers away. She’s not in any rush to go back home to her mother and she has a lot to think about anyways.)_  

*          *          * 

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 12:21:59)_

_FoRWhat the law wasPØWRELESS to dobecause it was weakened by the flesh, GODDid by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemnedsin in the flesh, 4INORDERTHAT the righteOus requirement ofTHELaw might be fully met in us, who do notlive according to the flesh but according toTHESPIRT.rOMANS8_

_(Isra only skims the bible verses her mother sends her anymore, doesn’t even bother trying to interprete it. She just deletes the notification and ignores is.)_

*          *          * 

Her mother isn’t getting better. 

She’s resumed texting Isra daily bible quotes, still tells her crazed fanatical theories whenever they see each other in passing.

  _(“Isra, rapture is almost upon us.”)_

 _(“Isra, the LORD has been speaking with me-“)_

_(“Isra, you need to go to church with me if you ever expect to be saved.”)_

_(One day, the two of them are silently watching_ The Imitation Game _on TV and when Alan Turing reveals he’s gay, Marianne says, “I don’t understand how anyone could condone that sort of behavior. It’s grossly inappropriate to invite sin like that.”)_

_(Isra leaves soon after. She can’t explain to her mother why she’s crying silently and can’t stop shaking. She just sits on the floor of her bathroom and throws up in the toilet.)_

*          *          *

_Fra Mamma (Søndag 13:01:57)_

_COLLOSIAN 9 Do nottLIETOEACHother, since you hVe taken off your old selfWith its practices10 and have putON the new self, which is being renewedin knowledge in the image of iTsCrEaToR._  

*          *          * 

One night, Isra downloads Tinder and creates a profile because, as she sees it, she’s really got nothing to lose. She doesn’t intend to actually meet up with anyone, but she just wants to _see_ what it’s like.

She puts up a couple of different photos. Of her photos, there was one that Eva had taken of her at a café one day, one that Julie took of her and Jonas that she conveniently cropped Jonas out of, one of her at a party that Magnus had taken, and some memes because her Facebook profile is an outdated meme and people might as well know what they’re getting into. She writes up a bio that consists of “tell me about your favorite outdated meme” and starts swiping.

She starts looking at guys and is largely unimpressed.

 

_Christian, 19 (3 km away)_

_Winter isn’t the only thing that’s coming_

_John, 20 (7 km away)_

_I’m here because I’m too lazy to find my soul mate and my mom says that I’m getting old._

_Karl, 21 (10 km away)_

_Looking for my “Catfish” story. Voted most likely to be loved by your mother_

_Martin, 19 (4 km away)_

_I live everyday of my life under the teachings on Ron Swanson…not looking for a relationship at the moment. P.S. Ignore my interests, 95% of it is just random shit_

_Håkon, 18 (9 km away)_

_One time I put the milk in before the cereal so you could say I like to live dangerously. London to Oslo, enjoys long walks through the liquor store, boats, and bottomless brunch. Anything worth doing is worth overdoing_

_Nils, 18 (11 km away)_

_Who wants to go on a road trip?_

 

Isra swipes through a couple of more profiles, swiping left for “not interested” in nearly all of them. She’s already frustrated with this. All of these guys seem, well, _horrible._

Isra switches it so she’s swiping on girls. It can’t hurt her just to look, right? It’s just Tinder, it doesn’t mean anything.

 

_(Unless she wants it too, but Isra doesn’t want to think about that.)_

 

The first thing she notices is that the girls on Tinder are just _so much better._ Like overall, more effort was put in, and Isra finds herself right-swiping a lot more than she thought she would.

 

_Anna, 18 (12 km away)_

_I like math and shitty hipster music and walking around at night. Hyper at the wrong times. Not chill._

_Kjersti, 21 (2 km away)_

_I do art and tell bad jokes. Want to be straightforward and let people know that I’m allergic to avocados and I like pineapple on my pizza._

_Helene, 22 (9 km away)_

_If I’m gonna go to hell, I’ll take the entrance through your thighs_

_Mari, 18 (5 km away)_

_Fun, loveable, 420 friendly & looking for a cool, pretty girl to have some fun with me and my boyfriend ;-)_

_Monica, 18 (6 km away)_

_Taurus/ ENFB / Bi af. Comic book nerd & chocolate milk aficionado. Sometimes cosplayer. I love cats, the color orange, pizza, nature, comics & anime. Also love Star Trek, friendly people, and girls that look like they could kill me. I’m slow replying to messages because that’s just how I am._

_Bente, 19 (4 km away)_

_Yes that’s my parrot in my picture. Only one way to find out if she likes you. Ladies only! Not interested in having a threesome with you and your not-hot boyfriend._

 

She swipes through until she gets the notification _“You’re Out of Swipes! Try Again in 12 hours”._ She plugs her phone into its charger and resolves to try and get some sleep, instead.

*          *          *

Her Sunday was off to a shit start. 

She had been stuck in the house all weekend. She was supposed to go on a _Tinder date,_ of all things, on Friday but was cancelled on at the last minute, and last night Magnus had cited “family issues” for the fact that he couldn’t hang out and Jonas had gone with some Yakuza boys. Jonas had befriended the Yakuza guys after it got out that Jonas had gone down on Isabel, but it was still a weird thing to think about.

She’s spent most of Sunday morning trying to clean out her room and move stuff to the basement. She’s already filled several boxes with items from under her bed and the depts. Of her closet. Every time she walks to the basement it requires her to walk through the kitchen, where her mother has been seated staring blankly at the TV all day.

In the afternoon, Isra drops a box of clothing onto the table in front of her mother. “Hey, does your church take clothing donations?” Isra is standing directly in her mother’s line of sight so she couldn’t possibly be ignored.

Isra’s mother moves her head in surprise, almost like she can’t believe she’s being asked a direct question. “Sorry?”

“Do you guys take clothes donations? None of these really fit so I’m getting rid of them.” She gestures to the box in front of her.

Isra’s mother leans out of her seat, fingers some of the clothes near the top. “Why are you getting rid of these?”

Isra’s really not in the mood for this. “I already said that they don’t really fit anymore.” Her voice is unconsciously getting louder but she’s largely unaware of it.

Her mother looks up at her. “We could just burn them in the fireplace.”

 _What?_ “Sorry what was that?” Isra asks, because did her mother just suggest that she _burn her clothes in the fireplace?_

Isra’s mother has already grabbed the box and is walking away. She’s already holding two or three of the things from the top in her hand “It’ll be good for the house.” She calls behind her as Isra walks quickly towards her. “Will add a nice smell to the house, fitting for springtime. Cleanse everything.”

Isra’s mom begins to fiddle with the gas fireplace as Isra snatches the box out of her arms. “What was that for?”

 _“Are you crazy?!”_ Isra demands, staring at her mother in disbelief. “ _What the fuck is wrong with you?”_

Her mother tilts her head at her. “Isra, you shouldn’t be speaking to your mother in that kind of tone-“

“No! Mamma!” Isra holds up a hand. “This is insane! You walk around, spewing shit like _rapture_ and _hell_ and _salvation_ , but for what? You’re ready to set the house on fire! And what cleansing smell? Everything will just smell like smoke!”

Isra’s mother clicks her tongue at her. “Now, Isra, that’s not why I’m suggesting we burn it-“

“Mom, our ventilation system can’t handle this! Jesus Christ. I’ll find somewhere to put my clothes, don’t touch my stuff without asking.” Isra turns, walking upstairs.

With the box of cloths in one arm, she shoots of a text to her father.

 

_Til Pappa (Søndag 3:15:04)_

_I asked Mamma just now if her church accepted clothing donations because I’m cleaning my room and moving stuff to the basement and she suggested that I burn my clothes in our fireplace in a scenario that would most certainly lead to us dying of smoke inhalation_

_Til Pappa (Søndag 3:16:01)_

_It would help if you could, you know, do something about that. Since you’re still technically married and I have no power over the situation and since I, your only child, still live here._

 

She’s being aggressive with her father, she knows it, but she’s elected not to care right now. She walks back to her room with its clouds and its stars (which she’s thinking of painting over and/or pulling off, because they’re no longer the source of comfort that they once were) and drops the box on the floor before she closes her door and locks it.

She flops down on her back onto her bed, presses her hands over her eyes. She takes a second the breathe.

Her phone pings with a text message a few minutes later. She ignores it for a bit, then finally gets around to checking it. It’s from Eva, which is…unexpected.

 

_Fra Eva (Søndag 15:40:00)_

_Is Jonas alright??? I texted him last night but he hasn’t responded._

_Fra Isra (Søndag 15:47:59)_

_What do you mean?_

_Fra Eva (Søndag 15:48:30)_

_I mean this_

 

Eva has sent her a screenshot of a Snapchat that he must have sent her. He’s got blood all over his face and his nose looks smashed inwards. Isra doesn’t have a Snapchat but she’s still shocked that this is the first she’s hearing of this.

She ignores Eva to try calling him, but she gets sent straight to voice mail. She shoots him a text.

 

_Til Jonas (Søndag 15:54:01)_

_What is this Eva texted me about you getting beat up by Yakuza?????_

_Til Jonas (Søndag 15:57:24)_

_Jonas text me back or I’m coming over_

_Til Jonas (Søndag 15:59:56)_

_JONAS NOAH VASQUEZ ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE_

_Fra Jonas (Søndag16:01:49)_

_Sorry, was at home asleep until my phone started blowing up. Fuck Riot. Feel free to come over. I have to talk with you. Mamma says you can stay for dinner if you’d like._

*          *          *

She shows up to Jonas’s a little after 18:00, exchanges pleasantries with Jonas’s _mamma_ who really just wants to find out how her mother is doing (which is a conversation Isra doesn’t feel like having, and Isra idly wonders how much Jonas has told her), and Isra gives her a quick _she’s fine, every day is different_ before she excuses herself and makes her way through to Jonas’s room. 

She knocks on the door and pushes through without waiting for a response. Jonas is sitting on his bed with his laptop out in front of him and an ice pack pressed against his face.

“Were you going to tell me about this or am I just going to learn about all your life developments through _your ex?”_ Isra demands, marching across the room.

Jonas looks up at her, sighs. He’s got a wicked black eye forming and he’s got a scratch running from . “I was going to text you.” He protests weakly, tossing the ice pack onto his bedside table.

Isra raises an eyebrow next to him, flops down against the wall next to him. “What the fuck happened?”

Jonas did a sort of half shrug. “I’m not even sure. I was walking with two Yakuza guys – do you know Lars and Christian? The third years?” She shakes her head at him. “Okay never mind – well, I was with them, and then three of the Riot guys just pop out of nowhere and start beating the crap out of us until someone came and broke it up.”

“Why?” Isra asks, staring at him. “Like, why would they beat you guys up? Just out of nowhere?" 

Jonas looked away from her. “Lars was saying that he thinks it’s because William Magnusson beat up a Yakuza guy for calling Chris’s ex-girlfriend Iben a whore. Then that guy, Harald, went and beat up three Yakuzas as revenge. They also tried to go after Chris and William, but they couldn’t find William so they just beat up Chris. The guys say William doesn’t want to be involved in the fighting, but he really doesn’t have a choice, since he started it.”

Isra just stared at him. “What the fuck?" 

Jonas shrugged again. “I don’t know, all I know is we need to get revenge, somehow.”

“Do you really think revenge will solve anything?”

“I don’t know.” Jonas admitted. “But we have to do something. But I talked to Lars and Christian, none of us have any idea how to set things up with the Yakuza guys. We need an actual fight, none of this sneak attack bullshit we’ve all been pulling.”

Isra feels an irrational wave of anger. _This is so stupid._ It’s a pissing contest where absolutely _no one_ is going to come out a winner.

And yet. She thinks of the picture of Jonas, thinks that this whole situation is only going to get worse if something isn’t done about it.

“If you want to set something up,” Isra starts, hesitant as Jonas’s eyes slowly snap back to her, “I have Penetrator Chris’s phone number. I could always just text him.”

Jonas stares at her. “You would do that? Just involve yourself like that?” She shrugs. 

Jonas starts texting furiously on his phone. “I’m gonna check with Lars and Christian, but – fuck, Isra, thank you so much.”

“You need to promise not to be a complete fucking moron about it though.” Isra says, turning to Jonas in all seriousness. “Like, you can be a little bit of a dumbass, but only like, 10% stupid, okay?”

Jonas grins at her as his mother starts to call them both downstairs for dinner “I’m never intentionally a moron, it just happens, sometimes.” She smacks him lightly on the shoulder, as a joke, and laughs.

Dinner is a relatively quiet affair, in a way that Jonas’s _mamma_ asks after her and her school work and Jonas’s papa cracks jokes at all the right moments as Emilie asks her questions about what upper secondary school is like. Jonas stares at them all in amusement, clearly enjoying the attention being off of him for once.

Once dinner is finished and cleaned up, Jonas and Isra retreat back to Jonas’s room.

“Can you text Chris?” Jonas asks. Isra nods, pulling out her phone. “Just say, hey, Yakuza guys want to set something up.” 

Isra nods, already typing.

 

_Til Chris Schistad (Søndag 7:45:18)_

_The Yakuza guys want to set something up with Riot_

His reply pings through a few minutes later.

_Til Isra (Søndag 7:52:16)_

_What kind of thing? A fight?_

_Til Isra (Søndag 7:53:02)_

_Does meeting Friday after school work for you?_

_Fra Isra (Søndag 7:55:52)_

_Yes, a fight. Friday is good, see you then._

“Discussion settled.” Isra says, sliding her phone back into her pocket. “Chris and I are meeting Friday after school. Find out what you guys want to happen and I’ll make it work.”

Jonas stares at her in disbelief. “Just like that.”

“What, did you expect any less?” She says back jokingly.

Jonas holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “I’m just impressed, is all.

“You mean, _bitches get shit done,”_ she says the last bit in English, and Jonas laughs loudly at that. 

“Yeah, I guess-“ Jonas is cut off as her phone starts ringing. The caller ID reads _Pappa._

“Fuck, I have to take this.” Isra unlocks her phone holding it up to her ear. Jonas goes back to texting, presumably with Yakuza. “ _Hallo?”_

 _“Isra, what is this about your mother trying to set your clothes on fire?”_ Isra straightens against the wall, running a hand through her hair so it’s out of her face, and she can’t help but notice that her curly blonde hair has gotten long, and is probably past her shoulder blades. She should probably get it cut soon.

“ _Pappa_ , I’m telling you, _mamma_ is losing it. Today I was cleaning out my room and moving stuff into the basement and I had a box of old clothes that either don’t fit or I don’t wear them, I asked _mamma_ if her church took clothing donations and she snatches the box out of my hands in an attempt to take them to the fire place and _set them on fire.”_ Jonas’s head snaps over to look at her in concern.

“ _She was going to throw them into the fireplace?”_ Her father’s voice crackles over the phone.  
  
“Yes, _pappa_! She was ready to legitimately throw the entire box into the fireplace and probably burn the house down. I grabbed the box out of her hands.” 

Her father pauses. Isra wonders if he had hung up on her when his voice comes back. “ _Do you feel safe at home?”_

Isra searches for words. “I don’t know, _pappa_. I wouldn’t be surprised if I came home one day and she had gutted the house or started firing rounds into the walls, at this point. Or if she spent all the money that she _doesn’t have_ on IKEA furniture or something.”

Isra’s father sighs. “ _I’m going to talk with your mother and with Mona. I’m not entirely convinced you should be living at home, anymore.”_

Isra runs a hand through her hair again. Though her father didn’t want her at home, he also wasn’t inviting her to stay with him. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have right now, let alone have it in _Jonas’s bedroom._ “Yeah, okay.”

Isra’s father sighs again. “ _I have to go, please call me. Love you. Bye.”_

 _“Bye.”_ Isra says back, throwing her phone onto the floor and flopping onto her back on Jonas’s bed, next to where he was sitting with his back pressed against the wall.

“Everything alright?” Jonas asks, carding a hand through her hair.

Isra blinks, tilts her head so she can look up at him. “Today, I asked my mother if her church accepted clothing donations, and she grabbed the box of clothes out of my hands and nearly threw them all on the fireplace which would probably have set our entire living room on fire.”

Jonas blinks at her, his eyes widening. “What?!”

Isra nods. “Yeah, she tried to set the house on fire, and was 100% convinced it was a good idea. And now my father is saying I shouldn’t live at home anymore, which is probably true but he also doesn’t want me to live with him.”

Jonas looks down at her. “I’m sorry. You’re always welcome here, you know.”

Isra shrugs, looking away. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s not like you did anything.”

“It’s not like you did anything, either, you know.” Jonas points out. She’s got not response to that.

*          *          * 

She starts messaging back the people she matches with on Tinder. She doesn’t plan on meeting up with any of them ever, but she’s never actually _talked_ with a girl before (in a romantic sense), so it can’t hurt to get some practice? 

In particular, she starts talking with this one girl, Kjersti, who she has some mutual Facebook friends with. She looks cute, from her pictures. Her main photo is one of her with her ginger hair tucked into a beanie, standing by a fjord, with some other photos of her in downtown Oslo and her with a dog that she says is her uncle’s.

They start talking semi-frequently, with Kjersti messaging her randomly throughout the day to comment on how things are going or make an observation about her class. Her bio reads: _I do art and tell bad jokes. Want to be straightforward and let people know that I’m allergic to avocados and I like pineapple on my pizza, ALSO I’M LOOKING FOR MORE FRANDZZZZZZ,_ so whatever messaging a girl on Tinder may mean, Isra knows it doesn’t have to be romantic if she doesn’t want it to be. It’s a safe choice.

_Kjersti_

_Law & policy is boring. Fuck you, UiO._

 

_Kjersti_

_Hey, how do you know Noora Sætre??_

_Isra_

_Science is equally boring, if it makes you feel better._

_Isra_

_Also, Noora and I both go to Nissen! She’s my best friend’s ex’s best friend, if that makes sense_

_Kjersti_

_Oh cool! I’m best friends with her roomie Eskild_

 

They go on, chatting about other mundane things they’re doing, before Isra is scolded by her teacher for texting in class and she had to slide her phone back into her backpack.

  
*          *          *

The week passes in a blur and before she knows it, it’s Friday afternoon and her phone is buzzing with a text from Chris.

 

_Fra Chris Schistad (Fredag 15:06:16)_

_Meet me behind school in 5 mins. I’ll be in my car._

 

She’s sitting outside on the benches with Jonas and Isabel, who is absentmindedly looking at something on her phone. “It’s Chris,” Isra thrusts the phone towards Jonas.

He reads the text and looks back at her. “Please be careful.” 

Isra rolls her eyes. “Okay _mamma,_ thank you, I will be.”  
  
Jonas purses his lips at her. “I’m serious.” 

“You got this, Isra!” Isabel smiles at her and Isra smiles. Isabel was starting to grow on her. 

She hops off the bench, nearly rolls her eyes at Jonas as she pats his hand. “I know, I’ll set things up, don’t worry about it.”

She grabs her bag, makes the walk behind school. Not many people wanted to pay licensing fees at their age and even less people with their licenses had their own cars, so it doesn’t take Isra by surprise that Chris, of all people, fits both of those descriptions. 

Chris turns and looks at her. “You know, this wasn’t really why I gave you my number.”

Isra tilts her head and grins at him. “Oh, I know, but are you glad you did it regardless?”

Chris quirks an eyebrow at her. “Whatever you say.” He puts the car in drive and drives so they’re sitting in a parking lot a few blocks away. He turns off the engine, turns to face her. “Okay, say your piece.”

Isra turns, angles her body so she’s facing Chris. “We need to talk about this shit you guys are doing. Yakuza wants to end this pissing contest, or whatever it is, that’s going on. They’re suggesting a fight sometime next week or the week after.

“And they elected you spokesperson?” Chris nearly laughs at her.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “No one elected me to anything. Ever hear the saying, _if you want something done, you have to do it yourself?”_ She bites out the last part in English.

“Okay. I respect that.” Chris nods at her. “If you guys want to settle this, come to our bus next Tuesday. Same place as usual, out by the lake. Bring however many you want.”

Isra leans back in her seat, smiling at him. “Afraid you’ll lose without the home field advantage? Tuesday sounds like a plan.”

Chris looks at her carefully. “Is this because we beat up the _spic?”_

Her eyes narrow at him. “If the best you’ve got is a racist comeback. Yakuza won’t have a problem taking you guys down. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sibling, and I don’t let people fuck with that.”

“But you fuck him?”

Isra rolls her eyes at that because she’s only had people try to insult her by insinuating she was Jonas’s whore on the regular since she was 13, but then focuses her attention back on him. “Wow, me and Jonas having sex. Original and creative Idea. I’ve never once before been informed that I’m apparently having sex with him even though I’m not, so thank you for that. Are you still trying to fuck Eva?”

Chris bristles at that. “What about it?” 

Isra clicks her tongue at him. “Well, I’m just thinking that I know she still cares an awful lot for Jonas, and it would _awfully_ sad if she heard what you just called him. Enough, I think, to make her stop talking to you.”

She opens the door and steps outside. “See you next Tuesday. Don’t fuck with Jonas again. I mean it,” she says, slamming the door on Chris before she turns away and walks towards the main street.

 

*          *          *

Isra is dozing in bed when Kjersti texts her one Saturday afternoon.

 

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 12:51:29)_

_Eskild just texted me asking about your sexual orientation. Apparently Noora and her friend have been wondering and asked him about it. I told him that I had met a friend of Noora’s over Tinder (since he saw a notification one time) and showed him your profile and he made the connection. I think they showed him your Instagram. He hasn’t said anything back to them yet._

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 12:52:53)  
Listen, I know there’s nothing romantic between us, but I like to think we’re friendly. I know you said you still aren’t out to a lot of people, which is hard, and you’ve got shitty parents. Been there, done that. Eskild already knows you’re not straight but I can tell him to lie to Noora  & her friend if you’d like._

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 12:53:30)_

_Also, nice boyfriend you’ve got in the one pic. Hope u enjoyed your brief visit to straightsville!_

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 13:02:22)_

_I don’t think I’m ready for them to know. I would appreciate it if you could lead them off track, if you know what I’m saying_

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 13:02:49)_

_And that was actually the second time I dated that guy. He broke up with me (both times) because he felt I wasn’t “invested enough” in our relationship._

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 13:04:38)_

_Classic straight boy move!!!!!_

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 13:04:58)_

_I’ll tell Eskild. Take your time._

_Fra Kjersti (Lørdag 13:27:04)_

_Also, coming out is your business and your business only. Fuck anyone else who tells you otherwise._

Eskild himself follows her on Instagram later that evening. She requests to follow him back, and shortly after, Eskild starts direct messaging her on Instagram.

 

_@eazy-eskild: Hei! Wanted 2 let u know that I did talk to our darling Kjersti and I told Noora and Eva_

_@eazy-eskild: I also must say, you do the whole “straight-girl” thing pretty well. Eva and Noora are convinced_

_@israyaki: having a Tinder doesn’t mean anything_

_@eazy-eskild: Of course it doesn’t_

_@eazy-eskild: But if you ever change your mind, Kjersti and I are friends with fun people_

_@eazy-eskild: also I’m not 100% Noora and Eva are straight. Or their other blonde friend (Vilde?)_

_@israyaki: Thanks for talking with Noora, I have to go to English homework_

_@eazy-eskild: Okay, enjoy your homework baby gay!!!_

_@eazy-eskild:_ [_https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsVcUzP_O_8_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsVcUzP_O_8) _for your listening enjoyment_

*          *          *

Isra comes to the realization that she really doesn’t like Chris, and is okay with the fact that she’ll probably not talk to him ever again.

This dream of hers is murdered in due time, of course, when Lars and Christian decide that next Tuesday doesn’t work with the Yakuza guys, and they need her to talk to Chris and get her to change the date. 

_Fra Jonas (Tirsdag 21:19:01)_

_Can you try and change the fight date? Maybe up to this Friday or some time in the first half of next week? Yakuza can’t do any time after next Monday_

_Fra Jonas (Tirsdag 21:19:35)_

_You’re the best_

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 21:22:15)_

_You owe me_

_Fra Jonas (Tirsdag 21:23:37)_

_I’ll consider naming my first born after you._

_Fra Jonas (Tirsdag 21:24:03)_

_Isra if it’s a girl and Isak if it’s a boy_

She sighs, briefly thinks about what to text Chris. She decides in the end that simplicity is important, and they can discuss any details over the phone or in person.

 

_Til Chris (Tirsdag 21:29:41)_

_Yakuza need to change the date_

_Til Chris (Tirsdag 23:11:56)_

_Hello? Can we meet up or can you call me or something?_

He doesn’t respond to her that night or the next morning. She’s standing in the courtyard, talking with two boys from her science class whose names she can’t remember when she sees Chris walk by. They make eye contact, and she hopes she’s being discreet when she holds a hand up to her ear and mouths _call me._  

He nods back at her. Message received.

_(That night, Chris calls her and they officially move the fight up to Friday, two days away. Riot Club is having a Russ party, but it shouldn’t be an issue.)_

_(Isra can’t help but worry that she might have gotten in a little over her head on this one.)_

*          *          *

_Fra Mamma (Fredag 05:14:55)_

_ROMANS133 Forrulers are not Aterror to gOOd conductbut to bad. Wouldyou have no fear of THEOne who is in authority? Then do whaTis good, anDYou will receive his approval, 44 heeis God's servantfor your good. But ifyou do wrong, bafraid, for he does not beartheS WORDINVAIN. For he is the servant of GOD, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoEr._  

*          *          *

She’s sitting in the back of Lars’ car and dials Chris. She listens to the phone ring, pressed against her ear. She hears Chris pick up and doesn’t even let him say anything before she’s cutting in to tell him _“We’re outside.”_

_“Understood. We’re coming out.”_

*          *          *

The Yakuza fight is a blur.

There’s screaming and suddenly glass is flying and Lars is on the floor and Isra is backing up and she doesn’t know _what is going on_ and the guys are starting to kick the shit out of one another.

She backs away, over towards where Eva, Vilde, Chris, and Sana are standing.

“Isra, what the fuck?” Eva asks and Isra just shakes her head. More guys have fallen to the ground and she feels _horrified._

The cops show up, take her name and her address. The cops had started with the Yakuza and Riot guys, and Jonas is waiting about 15 feet away.

“Are you alright?” She asks, walking towards him after the police officer said she was good to go. He had a scratch on his neck that appeared to be bleeding a little bit and he looked like he had a bruise forming on his left cheekbone.

He waves off her concern. “I’m alright. Lars is going with Christian to the hospital, so we need to find another way out of here. Go to the main road and Uber out of here or something.” A lot of people are still in the general vicinity. The cops surrounded them, refused to let anyone leave until they had taken names and addresses of everyone present.

“There’s a road over that way.” Vilde pipes up. Isra and Jonas both turn to face her; they hadn’t noticed her appear. “You only have to walk a little bit.”

“Thank you.” Jonas says, and he looks at her and Sana. Chris and Eva are still talking with the police. “Have you guys been drinking? Are you alright to find your way?”  
  
Sana nods at him. “We all stayed at Vilde’s, since she lives the closest, and walked here from there.” She pauses for a second. “We’re not quite sure where Noora went, though. She saw William bottle that guy and got…a little upset.” 

Isra nods in understanding. “That makes sense. Can one of you guys talk to Noora, make sure she’s alright?”

“Most definitely.” Vide replies, pulling her blue winter jacket tighter around herself.

Jonas touches her arm. “We should go.” Isra nods at him, and the two of them bid the girls goodbye and head towards the main road, away from the remains of the fight. 

*          *          * 

Isra spends most of her weekday afternoons in a kaffebrenneriet doing homework whenever she’s not with one of the guys because her house is a stressful place to be. 

Her mother has taken to gutting out some of the rooms of the house in an effort to bring a “new atmosphere” even though Isra knows that her mother has no intention of putting the rooms she’s dismantling back together again. In addition, her mother has also taken to praying _extremely loudly_ in the house at odd hours of the night, so Isra doesn’t really sleep that much anymore.

She’s in the middle of sipping on her iced mocha and procrastinating her Norwegian homework when her phone vibrates with a text from Eva. She sees that she’s missed some notifications, including a text from Jonas.

 

_Fra Jonas (Mandag 17:21:41)_

_Got called in for questioning by the police for the fight. Did you hear anything?_

She texts him back before reading Eva’s messages.

 

_Fra Isra (Mandag 17:54:21)_

_I don’t know, I’m at a KB doing work right now. Haven’t been home since this morning._

She continues to drink her coffee as she reads Eva’s messages.

 

_Fra Eva (Mandag 17:53:02)_

_Did you get called in for questioning?_

_Fra Isra (Mandag 17:57:59)_

_I don’t know yet. Jonas did._

_Fra Isra (Mandag 17:58:33)_

_Is this about William?_

_Fra Eva (Mandag 18:03:49)_

_Isra, I need you guys to not say anything if you end up getting called in, okay?_

_Fra Isra (Mandag 18:04:59)_

_Sure. Haven’t checked the mail yet today, will check when I get home and will be sure to let you know._

_Fra Isra (Mandag 18:06:16)_

_Also, I’m assuming you texted Jonas as well, but I’m sure he won’t say anything, either._

*          *          * 

Isra’s exciting plans for her Friday evening consist of sitting on her bed with her laptop open on her stomach as she watches _Narcos._

_(It’s a good show; she’s a fan of the writing in particular. She usually watches it with Jonas, since he can point out things about the Spanish, but he’s with Isabel tonight.)_

The sun sets outside her window, and soon her room is illuminated solely from the glow of her laptop. She’s 4 episodes deep into her binge watching when she looks up and sees her mother standing silently in the doorway and she has a mini fucking heart attack. 

 _“Holy fuck,”_ she swears, and moves her laptop off of her body. “ _Mamma,_ what are you doing?”

Her mother doesn’t acknowledge her, just tilts her head slightly in Isra’s direction.

“ _Mamma_?” Isra asked again. She shut her laptop and deposited it on her bed, slowly making her way over.

Her mother’s eyes snap up to hers, looking hollow and vacant. “Who are you?”

Isra’s a bit taken aback by this. “I’m-um, your child? Isra?” She tries to limit the confusion in her voice but it’s there nonetheless. “You had me with Terje? I was born 21 June 1999?" 

Her mother is shaking her head slowly at her _._ “No, you’re not my daughter.”

Isra stares at her in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Her mom takes a step into the room towards Isra. “You’re not my daughter. You’re an imposter.”

Isra shakes her head slowly, starting to back up towards her bed because she’s quickly getting _very_ concerned. “ _Mamma_ , no, I _am_ her, I promise you – look, _mamma_ , we can call _pappa_ if you’d like-“ She bumps into the back wall and her mother moves closer, grabbing Isra’s forearm and digging her nails into the skin there. It _hurts,_ a little bit, and despite Isra’s few-inch height advantage over her mother, her mother is standing in a way that means Isra can’t move from her current position.

“ _What did you do with my daughter?”_ Her mother nearly yells, pressing Isra against the wall. Isra feels tears begin to slide down her face, and she has a flashback to a ghost of a conversation at Christmas, her grandmother’s _‘we’re worried she may hurt someone…or you’_ comment, and she closes her eyes and tilts her head towards the ceiling. “I promise you, I’m her.” Her voice cracks over the syllables. 

Behind her back she pulls out her phone, swipes it to the emergency setting and types in her father’s number. Her mother still has her pressed against the wall and is staring at her. 

“You need to leave immediately, before my daughter comes back.” She says suddenly, and releases her vice grip on Isra’s arm. 

Marianne frantically starts grabbing Isra’s things as Isra holds her phone to her ear, her father’s voice on the other end.

“ _Isra? Isra?”_

“ _Pappa_ , fuck- you, you need to come here.” She’s still crying and he can definitely hear it in her voice. In the background, her mother is grabbing anything she can get her hands on from Isra’s room and is throwing it into the hallway.

“ _What’s wrong?”_

“ _Mamma_ is insane.” Isra replies, still focused on trying to correct her breathing. “I was watching TV in my room and she stands in the doorway and goes off about how I’m an _imposter_ and need to leave before her real daughter shows up. She shoved me against a wall and now she’s trying to clear things out of my room.”

“ _Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”_ He hangs up on her.

 _(She stays on her bed until her father comes in, until he convinces her mother to stop trying to throw out Isra’s things and convinces her to come sit downstairs and have a conversation with him.)_

_(Her arm is bleeding from where her mother dug her nails into her skin. Isra puts a bandage over the marks and chooses not to think about it.)_

_(She has the sudden urge to_ run. _So, without a word to her parents, she throws on a jacket and leaves.)_

*          *          * 

[ _“…It's not right_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _But it's okay_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _I'm gonna make it anyway_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _Pack your bags up and leave_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _Don't you dare come running back to me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _It's not right_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _But it's okay_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _I'm gonna make it anyway_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _Close the door behind you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _Leave your key_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _I'd rather be alone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

[ _Than unhappy…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2gHhfxYVc%20)

 

Isra’s not really sure how she ended up here.

After her shitshow of an evening with her parents, she basically grabbed the rest of the alcohol she had in her room, shoved it into her jacket, and meandered her way out into Oslo, drinking as she went along. She had shown up at this bar sometime after midnight after spending an hour at a different bar (and having 3 different guys buy her drinks).

She was sitting in a booth farthest away from the bar, playing some pool game on her phone while sipping her Long Island iced tea.

(It took her two hours and a girl slipping her number for her to realize that the huge pride flag behind the bar was meant to symbolize that she was in a _gay bar.)_

Sometime after 2, a girl and a guy (both redheads) slide into the other side of the booth. They’re both smiling uncomfortably. The two of them look familiar, but she can’t immediately place it. The first 

“Hi, you’re Isra right? Noora’s friend?” The guy asks. He’s tall and skinny with red hair. He looks very… _familiar_ to her. 

Isra stares at her for a second. “You’re the guy she lives with, the one who messaged me on Instagram, right?”

He nods at her encouragingly. “Yeah, Eskild. Isra, are you blacked out right now?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Isra tries to wave him off. “No Eskild. M’fine.”

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh really?” She nodded. “Alright, remember these words, okay? They’re gonna be important. _Girl, apple, newspaper.”_

Isra nods at him, clearly drunker than she had intended to be ( _though maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she didn’t remember this evening)_. “Girl, apple, newspaper. Got it.”

Eskild and Kjersti nod at her. “Good job.” Eskild says, and she can’t help but look away and feel like he’s patronizing her. He doesn’t notice. “Isra, why are you here, anyways? Don’t you have somewhere you should be?”

Isra shrugs. “Not really. Can’t go home to my _mamma_ and my _pappa_ doesn’t want me around, so.”

Eskild stares at her. “What do you mean, you can’t go home?”

“I mean,” she starts, sits up a little bit, “my mother’s been crazy since my sister was stillborn 8 years ago, and she’s been terrible recently. She sits, reads the bible, chants prayers. Tried to set the house on fire once. Talks about all the wrong and sin on the Earth. Tells me I should go to church more. My dad snapped a few months ago and moved out, and he always tells me that I shouldn’t be at home but he hasn’t asked me to move in with him, which makes me wonder why he doesn’t want me living with him.” Isra shrugs, not even noticing the horrified looks Eskild and Kjersti were giving each other. “This evening, I’m trying to enjoy my fucking _Narcos,_ like any bitch does, and my mother comes and stands in my doorway, paranoid and convinced that I’m an imposter, and not her actual daughter. She forced me against a wall and dug her nails into my arm so hard that it bled.”

She shows the bandage on her arm to the two of them and they both flinched. Isra pauses for a moment then chugs the rest of her drink.  
  
“How did you even buy a drink? You’re 16.” Kjersti asked, her face screwed into worry and confusion. Isra reaches into the pocket of her military jacket and flicks her fake ID at her. “Huh, I didn’t know people still made these.” 

“People will make anything for the right price.” She has a realization. “ _Oh,_ also, Eskild, you know Eva?” Eskild nods, looking like he’s afraid of what she’s going to say. “Eva confided in me that she had cheated on Jonas, her ex, my best friend, and I told the girlfriend of the boy she had cheated on Jonas with. The girl went crazy and tried to beat the shit out of Eva at school. I lied to Eva and said it was because I had a thing for Jonas! But that was a lie, because Eva is one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen and the _only way_ I could figure out how to deal with that was by destroying the relationship of the _only_ constant friend I’ve had in my life. And I can’t even tell him, because I love him but he’s the biggest fuckboy on the planet, and Eva still has feelings for him, and I feel like shit _constantly._ Because who does that?!” 

“I don’t think he’d be mad at you.” Kjersti says after a pause, not unkindly. She looks sadly at Isra. “I’m sure he’d be hurt, of course, but – if you mean as much to him as he means to you, I’m sure he’d be willing to overlook that.”

Eskild gave her a pitying look as he linked his fingers “Kjersti is right. Isra, do you remember the game we played a few minutes ago?”

She stares blankly at him. “What game?”

“The game where I asked you to remember the three words.”

Isra stares at him in confusion. “We didn’t play any game.”

Eskild turns to Kjersti. “Yeah she’s blacking out right now. We can’t just leave her here.” He turned back to Isra. “Isra, where do you live?”

Kjersti turns to him, her eyes narrowed as she stared at him in disbelief. “ _You just heard her, we can’t send her back-“_

“I can’t go home.” Isra interrupts in protest, her speech slurring slightly. “Shit is…sad. Not good with my parents.” 

Eskild sighs dramatically and reaches across the table to grab her hand, placing her hand between his. “It’s okay my dear.”

He turns to Kjersti, and the two of them aren’t talking to her anymore, she can tell. “Kjersti, you’re the one who’s talked with her more, so if she wakes up after blacking out she’ll be less surprised.”

“She’ll think we had sex and will panic!” Kjersti cuts in, her voice quiet. She understands the gravity of the situation, understands they can’t leaved a blacked out and _sad_ version of Isra in a gay bar, let alone in downtown Oslo. “I already live in an apartment with six people, Eskild, and I’m in enough shit with my roommies as it is. I would, you _know_ I would, but can’t at the moment. Just put her in the basement. You guys hardly use it anyways, no one will care.”

Eskild sighs overdramatically, reaches out and grabs Isra’s forearm. “You’re right, Kjersti. Isra, come here, you’re coming with me.” 

As the three of them maneuver their way out, Eskild commenting about his habit for adopting strays on the way, the bartender switched the music to some club-beat type song Isra can’t remember ever hearing before. 

[ _“…Spill your hate, bring your wisdom through it right into my flames_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _I want you to know_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _I am the bonfire_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _You make me stronger, you make me light up_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _With the shade you throw on me, throw on me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _I am the bonfire_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _You make me stronger, I'm going higher_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

[ _I live off your gasoline, gasoline…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)

*          *          * 

Isra wakes up in the middle of the afternoon, in an unfamiliar pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt in an apartment she’s never been in before and she promptly starts panicking.

She looks around the room. It’s filled with boxes and clearly serves as a storage room or something similar. She sees her phone next to her, which has been plugged into a lime green portable charger. Isra turns it on and sees that she has some missed notifications, notably missed texts from Eskild (who must have put his number in her phone at some point last night) and her father.

 

_Fra Eskild (04:15:29)_

_Hi Isra! You probably don’t remember a lot from last night – Kjersti and I ran into you at a bar and we brought you back here since you didn’t want to go home and you were blacking out so we couldn’t just leave you there. You threw up against a phone booth, but you were a champ about it. You did get a lil bit on your clothes though, so I rinsed those out in the sink and they should be back in your room by the time you wake up. The clothes you’re in are mine (don’t worry, nothing happened due to the fact I am a flaming homo) and I plugged your phone into a portable charger I have. Noora and Linn didn’t see us come in, in case you were worried._

_Fra Eskild ( Lørdag 04:17:19)_

_Also, the basement is usually vacant. If you ever need, let me know and I’ll buzz you in._

Eskild, she realized right then, was an incredible person to grant her this unexpected kindness. _Maybe Tinder isn’t all that bad,_ she thought to herself.

She taps through her phone and reads the text from her father, which was sent a few hours before Eskild’s.

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 02:11:39)_

_Talked w mamma. She’s very sorry for hurting you. She’s going to start going to therapy again, maybe get on some meds. I’m staying at home for the meantime._

 

She nearly snorts in disbelief at her father’s text. _Great, move back in with the woman you’re divorcing._

Isra gathered her belongings, tried to fold up the bedding and Eskild’s clothes as best as she could, and put her very best effort into leaving the house as quietly as possible.

_(She starts spending more and more time in the basement. She texts Eskild, some early mornings and some evenings well past midnight to let him know that she’s staying over that night. He always responds with the same answer, tells her to let him know when she’s here and he’ll unlock the door for her so she doesn’t have to worry about waking anyone up when she buzzes in because Eskild understands that the last thing she wants is for Noora to see her around their apartment and ask questions. He moves his bedding downstairs, lends her his portable charger because she’s constantly forgetting hers in her rush to get out of the house, and she doesn’t say it because she doesn’t know how, but she hopes he realizes how much it means to her.)_

*          *          *

_(They talk, sometimes. Mainly, Eskild talks and Isra listens. Not a lot, but enough. Eskild tells her about growing up in Asker, tells her about how he doesn’t speak to his parents anymore but he had the most incredible siblings, tells her about how much more hopeful he is here in Oslo, surrounded by friends and people that loves him.)_

_(She can’t help but feel comforted by the fact that Eskild is living, breathing proof that things won’t feel this awful forever.)_  

*          *          *

She gets the notification that she’d been added to a new Facebook Messenger group a few days later while she’s sitting in English class.

 

_Eva: Hi everyone in this chat. As you all know we’ve been called in for questioning and we have to agree on what to say and not. We’re talking about William’s future here. He could be sentenced to 6 months in jail._

  _Jonas: Yo_

 _Vilde: When have you all been summoned to meet?_

_Noora: William has to meet Friday at 3 PM_

_Jonas: Monday_

_Chris: Monday_

_Sana: Thursday_

_Vilde: I have to meet on Thursday_

_Eva: Thursday. Isra?_

_Isra: Yo. No idea. I’ll check when I get home._

_Eva: Good, so we know that much_

_Vilde: Okay. Let’s agree on what to say. My suggestion Yakuza punched William first._

_Sana: No!_

_Jonas: Fuck that. Don’t say anything_

_Sana: We didn’t see anything_

_Vilde: What if they ask where we were?_

_Sana: In the bus_

_Vilde: What if they ask if we were inebriated?_

_Noora: Then you tell them no_

_Chris: Partying on a russebuss?_

_Vilde: Yes, sober Russ_

_Christoffer: Halla, if you all shut up this will all work out just fine. talk to you later_

_Vilde: Chris, do you think Yakuza will say anything?_

_Christoffer: They’re a bunch of cunts so hell if I know_

_Vilde: We have to talk to them. Could you do that Chris?_

_Christoffer: Hell no. No one talks to them._

_Vilde: I can try and find out when they’re going in for questioning?_

_Christoffer: Just ignore them_

_Vilde: Okay_

*          *          *

She goes in for questioning on the following Monday and denies her role in the Riot/Yakuza fight.

 _Did you see the fight?_ Not really. I was far away. 

 _Did you see someone get hit with a bottle?_ No, but I heard it.

 _Did you see someone holding a bottle?_ No.

 _Were you drinking?_ I wasn’t, but I don’t know if anyone else was.

They let her go after 15 minutes, and she hopes for Noora’s sake that William is alright.

 _(She puts in her headphones, goes to Spotify and puts her favorite N.W.A. album on shuffle. As soon as[“Fuck Tha Police”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5fts7bj-so)_   _starts blaring over her headphones, she nearly laughs at the irony.)_

*          *          * 

Eskild Facebook messages her a few days later just as she’s finished her last exam. 

 _Eskild: Linn and Noora have said that, due to the fact that our downstairs neighbors don’t know how_ not _to be assholes (and not in a fun way!), I need to stop having people live in the basement._

_Eskild: I’m sorry_

_Eskild: You’re more than welcome to come stay in any emergency, though. You also have my phone number, so even though you DON’T call me for advice sessions, you could do that!!_

_Isra: No worries. Thanks for letting me crash as long as you did._

_Eskild: Anything for you, baby gay <3 _

_Isra: Eskild please don’t call me that_

_Eskild: :(_

 

*          *          * 

“Where have you been?” Marianne demands the second Isra is taking off her shoes in the doorway. She’s tired, she’s finished school, she’s going to William’s Farewell-to-Freedom party tomorrow, and all she wants to do right now is _sleep._  

Isra stares at her. “Oh, you know who I am now? I was at school. You know, the place of learning?”

“I don’t mean that.” Her mother says, placing her hands on her hips. “I mean all the nights this past month you haven’t been home, and you’ve been out partying or whatever other degenerates do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Isra shrugs and moves to make her way past her mother to the stairs.

Her mother blocks her way again, and Isra remembers the incident from weeks ago and she suddenly can’t be there anymore. “ _Mamma,_ no offense, but you don’t get to pretend to care now just because it’s convenient for you!” Isra is nearly shouting at this point, but she doesn’t care. “You don’t speak to me for _months_ aside from spewing all this religious bullshit and what? You want to parent now? Since _pappa_ doesn’t really want to talk to me, even though he’s living here again? I’ve barely been home since _Easter_ and you’re just wondering now?” 

Her mother is speechless, and Isra holds her hands up in the air in mock surrender. “I’m just saying. You don’t get to come here and demand where I’ve been when you decide to be a parent for the first time in _months._ That’s not how it works.” She moves towards the stairs, away from her mother. “That’s not how it works.”

_(Isra notices her mother is crying. She elects to ignore the urge to run back and comfort her and apologize.)_

_(She goes upstairs and blasts Chance’s_ Coloring Book _Album and ignores the sounds of her mother sobbing downstairs.)_

 _(She feels silent tears start running down her face during “How Great” when Chance raps“[My dream girl's behind me, feel like I'm James Early / The type of worship make Jesus come back a day early / With the faith of a pumpkin-seed-sized mustard seed /Hear, for I will speak noble things as entrusted me”.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P78DOZpta8) The tears don’t stop until over an hour has passed since she finished the album.)_  

*          *          *

Jonas texts her the next morning and asks him to come over to help her pick out an outfit.

“I need to look good!” He protests as Isra laughs at him. She’s already ready, wearing a fit-and-flare red dress and a denim jacket, with her makeup done. She’s mainly just sitting on his bed and offering commentary on what he should wear. “It’s at William’s, whose whole Riot Gang I tried to fight.” He pauses, searching through his closet. He’s got khakis and he’s currently trying to decide on a shirt to wear. “What about this?” He holds out a white button up.  
  
She shakes her head at him. “I think you should go with a darker color. Do you have anything in charcoal? If you did grey button up and khakis, that could be a good look.” She sat up a little bit. “Honestly, I’m sure William is fine with you. Besides Noora is dating him, and I’m pretty sure the main reason we’re there is because we’re friendly with Eva still.”

Jonas nods, and pulls a light grey button up “Is this good, do you think?”

Isra flashed him the OK-sigh. “I think it’s perfect.”

The two of them show up to William’s together later that evening. Isra immediately feels better on the roof of the apartment.

[ _“I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

[ _That tonight's gonna be a good night_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

[ _That tonight's gonna be a good, good night_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

[ _A feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

[ _That tonight's gonna be a good night_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

[ _That tonight's gonna be a good, good night…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ6mTNN7b6w)

 

They mill around for a bit when Jonas suggests they go talk to Eva since it’s been a while. Isra realizes that she hasn’t talked to Eva since that disasterous _“But I thought you liked girls?”_ conversation at the Penetrator fundraiser months ago.

 ( _Isra realizes then that she really, really misses Eva.)_

Eva, of course, is talking with Noora and Eskild. Isra’s smile threatens to leave when she notices, but she pushes the doubt away. Eva’s face lights up when they walk over. “Isra! Jonas!” She hugs the both of them. “How are you guys? Oh, you have to meet Eskild!” She turns, patting Eskild on the chest, who is currently chugging from a wine bottle and staring at her.

Jonas holds out a hand for him, which Eskild shakes before turning to her.

“Hi, Isra.” She starts as Eskild shakes her hand.

“Eskild.” He responds, going back to sipping his wine and giving her an expression that screams _we’ll talk about this later._

“I live with him,” Noora says, and Isra figures out that she must not have realized that Isra spent nearly three weeks living in her basement.

“We live together.” Eskild throws an arm around Noora in an effort to be fake-seductive.  
  
Noora laughs at Eskild’s ridiculousness. “No, we live in a house with roommates.”

“We live together.” Eskild insists, further wrapping his arm around Noora.

“Oh wait,” Jonas looks from Eva and Noora to Eskild, “Is this the guy you were avoiding when I was at Eva’s? The roommate with the guy-on-guy BJ action?” 

Eskild is suddenly deeply invested in this conversation. “What BJ action? The one from this Saturday?”

Noora shakes her head at him. “No, it was a long time ago. Back in March.”

Eskild makes an exasperated noise at her. “I can’t remember every time I get sucked off! It’s true,” he adds as everyone in the circle began to laugh, “If we have enough fun, I won’t think about it anymore the day after. Isn’t that a good philosophy?”

They keep chatting. At one point, Eva turns to Isra, thumbs the bottom edge of her jacket. “You look so cool!”

Isra grins at her. “Thanks. You look great, Eva.”

Eva smiles and turns to Jonas as Eskild meanders off somewhere else. “Jonas, you look really nice too. Grey is a good color on you.” 

Jonas laughs. “Thanks. Isra picked it out.” 

They chat amicably with Eva and some other girls. She’s missed this. The feeling of summer, the freedom that comes with it. It’s relaxing.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and sees she has a handful of texts from Eskild.

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:40:03)_

_Sorry we had to kick you out because of the complaints_ _L the downstairs neighbors have never been any fun_

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:43:53)_

_I know what it’s like to be stuck at home with shit parents. Rumor has it (Eva told me) that Noora’s considering moving in with William and/or moving with him to LONDON. If she does, you should come live with us. Move in officially. If you can’t, I understand, and you’re more than welcome to stick it out on our couch._

_Fra Isra (Fredag 19:46:41)_

_It’s alright about the downstairs people, their complaints were valid. I’ll talk to my pappa but keep me updated on Noora._

_Fra Isra (Fredag 19:46:50)_

_If there’s a vacancy I’d love to move in_

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:47:01)_

_OF COURSE MY BABY GAY <3 <3 <3 _

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:47:50)_

_WELCOME TO THE KOLLEKTIVET_

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:48:12)_

_Now go introduce yourself to Linn so she’ll know who you are when I tell her you’re moving in_

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 19:48:36)_

<3

The music changes overhead, and in the summer heat, surrounded by friends and the thought of being _free,_ Isra can’t help but feel optimistic.

 

[ _“…Just a picture perfect day that last a whole lifetime_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _And it never ends cause all we have to do is hit rewind_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _So let's just stay in the moment, smoke some weed, drink some wine_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Reminisce, talk some shit, forever young is in your mind_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Leave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _So when the director yells cut, I'll be fine_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _I'm forever young_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Forever young, I wanna be forever young_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Do you really want to live forever, forever, and ever?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Forever young, I wanna be forever young_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

[ _Do you really want to live forever, forever? Forever young…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ_GBs1k3Vk)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW DESCRIPTIONS: 1. Isra makes a comment about how Marianne watched The Sound of Music and is now concerned about Nazism.  
> 2\. Isra’s mother makes a comment about how she can’t condone the “gay lifestyle” and doesn’t understand people who support “that”  
> 3\. Isra is literally sick after hearing her mother’s comment and she leaves the room to go throw up in the bathroom  
> 4\. Isra asks her mother if her church has a clothing donation setup and Marianne suggests that they just burn them in the fireplace.  
> 5\. Chris refers to Jonas as a spic when  
> 6\. The guy gets bottled, Jonas has a scratch and a bruise on his face  
> 7\. Isra’s mother is having an episode where she thinks Isra is an imposter and forces her against a wall and digs her nails so hard into Isra’s skin that she’s bleeding. 
> 
> -According to Google, Gardermoen is the main airport outside of Oslo 
> 
> -Recap: Mona’s husband is Nikolai; their triplets are Katrín, Sveinn, and Ari.
> 
> -Icelandic translations: börn means “children”, frænka means “aunt”  
> \- Påskelam is another name for “Easter Lamb” which in Norway is a traditional dinner on Easter Saturday. (again, this is from Google, my family isn’t that religious and doesn’t celebrate Easter.) 
> 
> -Honestly, I only ever use Tinder for girls. All the Tinder bios are fabricated but based on Tinders I pulled up while writing this. In addition, since Facebook is linked to your Facebook, you can’t actually have Tinder until you’re 18. So let’s just say Isak is one of the people who lie about their age on Facebook so Facebook thinks he’s 18. 
> 
> -Jonas Noah Vasquez is the mom friend you can’t convince me otherwise. 
> 
> -All the bible quotes come from http://www.biblestudytools.com because I don’t know the Bible at all despite going to religious school for 14 years whoops 
> 
> \- Kaffebrenneriet is a coffee chain. I put their menu through Google Translate to learn the names of items. 
> 
> -The 3-word game is an actual fairly reliable way to test for a blackout! When you’re blacking out your short-term memory is fucked so you forget things (I blacked out on New Years which was not a fun time and my one friend used this on me and also made sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit, s/o to friendship). If you have a friend who you think has blacked out, stay with them until they get back to wherever they live. if you get them back home and you need to leave them, put a backpack on them so they have to sleep on their side. And like, if you black out, please thank your friends that help you. If you’re the kind of person who helps your blacked out friends (which hopefully you are, since blackouts are terrifying), thank you.
> 
> \- A lot of Eskild’s role (for Isak) in S2 is defined as the “gay-man-finding-out-the-sexual-orientation-of-another-man.” A lot of his tactics wouldn’t work on most queer women (based on personal experience), thus the invention of Kjersti. Isra will still move in with Eskild and Noora, but for all intensive s2 purposes, Kjersti serves as an important and necessary link between queer-girl Isra and Eskild. Also queer we know Eskild has other queer friends from the season 3 text messages between him and Isak when Eskild invites him out with them. 
> 
>  
> 
> -The group chat text translation is from skam2texts.tumblr.com 
> 
> -My loves, as someone who is queer, I know it’s hard, especially when coming to terms with it and/or coming out. It’s shitty. People are horrible. And though it may not seem like it now, you will reach a point where you are not limited by where you were born or who your family are and you will find people who love and care about you. You’re never as alone as you think you are. Please remember everyday that the world is a brighter place with you in it. I, for one, love each and every one of you, and you are all more than welcome to reach out to me at any time, if you ever want someone to talk or listen to. 
> 
> In the US: 1-800-273-8255 (NSPL), 1-866-488-7386 (The Trevor Project, I’ve called them before and they’re really nice)
> 
> Worldwide list: http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html
> 
> I love you all, have a wonderful weekend <3 
> 
> Songs in this chapter (in order):  
> Queen of Peace – Florence & The Machine (Title)  
> Ain’t My Fault (R3hab Remix) – Zara Larsson (Penetrator Fundraiser Song #1)  
> It’s Not Right But It’s Okay (Thunderpuss Remix) – Whitney Houston (Gay Bar Song #1)  
> Bonfire (feat. Alma) – Felix Jaehn (Gay Bar Song #2)  
> Express Yourself – Madonna (The Song Eskild Instagram DMs Isra)  
> Fuck Tha Police – N.W.A. (Isra’s post-Questoning song)  
> How Great (feat. Jay Electronica & My Cousin Nicole) – Chance the Rapper  
> I Gotta Feeling (FMIF Remix Edit) – The Black Eyed Peas (Party Song #1 → it’s the version from the show)  
> Forever Young – Jay Z & Mr. Hudson (Party Song #2 → Also the version from the show)


	7. I Long To Be Near You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer, and 3x01 and 3x02. 
> 
> *****  
> A week later, Isra is sitting at an awkward dinner with her father when she suddenly realizes she can’t avoid asking her father about kollektivet any longer, not when Noora’s officially out and she has less than a week until she has to start paying Eskild.
> 
> “I want to move out.” She blurts out suddenly, surprising both of them.
> 
> He looks up from his menu, startled by her outburst. “What?”
> 
> Isra takes a deep breath. “I want to move out of mamma’s.” Isra says. “My one friend used to live in a collective with her friends but she’s moving to London, so they have an opening.”
> 
> Her father folds his hands in front of her and looks displeased. “Isra-“
> 
> “Pappa.” She interrupts him. She knows where he’s going. “I know how you feel. But I can’t focus at home, not with mamma yelling all the time, and this year it’s really important that I improve my marks and focus on school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter legit took me so fucking long I'm sorry. At least it's 19,000 words, right?
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: alcohol and drug use (weed), mainly as a shitty coping mechanism, dubious sexual content (similar to that in chapter 5 in that Isra forces herself to have sex even though she doesn’t really want to), violence, shitty coping mechanisms. Any content warnings that apply to the first two episodes of season three apply here.

[ _“Du vet at folkene_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _De tenker på deg og de vil så gjerne_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _Men den tiden er gått og vi forandrer aldri tilbake_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _Og for et eventyr men vi skulle lekt mer med dyrene_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _Og alle folkene de tenker på om de vil så gjerne?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _Tilbake_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[ _Hjertet går på rundgang_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA)

[_Noen kaster barnene?...”_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRdokeoLKA) 

 _Kollektivet_ is throwing Noora a going away party and, of course, as future tenant and Eva’s kind-of-former-enemy-slash-distant-friend, Isra is there, sitting on a couch. Jonas is here too, somewhere, probably talking to a girl in another part of the apartment. Music is loudly playing in the room, mainly hipster Indie songs that Eskild has texted her saying it’s “new” and “edgy”. Isra doesn’t really get it, but Noora loves it and, though Isra can tell she’s happy to be moving in with William, she also seems devastated to be leaving Oslo. Isra’s not surprised, because according to Eva, her friends here in Oslo are the closest thing she’s had to a family in years. 

Isra’s currently sitting on the couch in the living room, sipping a beer and mainly watching people. Even though it’s at least 22 right now, the room is still bright in the way that it never _really_ gets dark during the summertime in Norway, and Isra’s content to just watch the room. She’s here for Noora, and she’s not really in the mood to try and get with anyone tonight.

A few minutes later, Noora flops down next to her on the couch. “I hear you’re moving in after me.”

Isra nods, staring straight ahead. “Yup.” Noora’s hands are empty. “Are you not drinking?”

Noora shakes her head. “I don’t really drink. And also, I figured. Eskild filled me in on how you were the one in our basement. Family issues?" 

Isra nearly snorts, and takes another sip of her beer. “To put it lightly.”

Noora outwardly laughs at that. “Unsurprised. Eskild’s always had a thing for strays. That’s how Linn and I ended up in here, anyways.”

Noora stares at Linn and Eskild, both drunk and dancing together halfway across the room. She looks sad. “They’re good people. They were good for me.” The two of them turn and watch a very drunk Eskild twirl Linn around in the middle of the living room and Isra tries to pretend she doesn’t hear Noora’s voice waver at her use of the past tense. “I think they’ll be good for you, too.” And without saying another word, she stands up and leaves Isra grappling with her thoughts. 

She still hasn’t told her parents she’s moving out yet. 

*          *          * 

A week later, Isra is sitting at an awkward dinner with her father when she suddenly realizes she can’t avoid asking her father about _kollektivet_ any longer, not when Noora’s officially out and she has less than a week until she has to start paying Eskild.

“I want to move out.” She blurts out suddenly, surprising both of them.

He looks up from his menu, startled by her outburst. “What?”

Isra takes a deep breath. “I want to move out of _mamma’s.”_ Isra says. “My one friend used to live in a collective with her friends but she’s moving to London, so they have an opening.”

Her father folds his hands in front of her and looks displeased. “Isra-“

“ _Pappa.”_ She interrupts him. She knows where he’s going. “I know how you feel. But I can’t focus at home, not with _mamma_ yelling all the time, and this year it’s really important that I improve my marks and focus on school.”

“If this is about the plate incident, your mother-“

“It’s not about the plate incident, believe me.” Isra shuts down, quickly. She didn’t want to revisit the time last week where Isra had made dinner and her mother, convinced Isra had poisoned her, threw a plate at her head. 

( _Isra had ducked at the last second, narrowly avoiding being hit, but she’d had four different dreams in the last week about the look in her mother’s eyes when she was yelling at her. In the dreams, she always wakes up in a cold sweat the instant the plate made contact with her head.)_

“Isra, I’m not sure if that would be best for the two of you-“

“What, you get to leave because you were the one who did it first, but I can’t?”

“I’m just worried. You’re mother, she’s – she’s fragile, Isra. I don’t know if she’ll be able to take it.”

“Well, what about me? What about what I can take? I’d like to graduate school, go to university, but that’s infinitely more complicated living at home. You _know_ that. Or at least, you used to, when you still talked to her.”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” her father demands, but he looks defeated. He sighs, looking across the restaurant. Finally, he says, “How much would it be a month? And who are you living with?”

“4,000 kr.” She tells him immediately. Isra had texted Eskild about it this morning, in preparation for this dinner, and he had been sure to be thorough. “It’s with this guy, Eskild Tryggerson, and his friend Linn. My friend Noora used to live there and I know both of them, they’re both very nice people.”

“How are you going to move your stuff there?”

“Um – I’ve sort of already been living there? For a while? There have been a lot of nights where I don’t come home." 

He doesn’t seem too surprised at this revelation, just sighs. “So I’m assuming you would officially start in July?” Isra nods.

Her father sighs, pulling out a checkbook. “How much was it, again?” and Isra has to fight to contain her grin.

She goes home to her bedroom to finish packing it up. It’s much sparser than it had been months ago. She’s been staying at Eskild’s pretty frequently in the past two weeks since Noora’s left, and all of the belongings that mattered to her were basically already there.

 

_Til Eskild (Mandag 23:11:19)_

_Talked to my dad, I’m officially good to move in._

_Til Eskild (Mandag 00:21:43)_

_YAY ROOMIES YAY FRIENDSHIP_

_Til Isra (Mandag 00:25:19)_

_Wait if your pappa has any questions he can talk to me and then I can pretend to be a responsible adult figure._

_Ti Isra (Mandag 00:56:48)_

_Isra I’m serious I want to talk to real adults and convince them I’m a responsible figure it’d be so much fun_

_Til Eskild (Mandag 01:12:09)_

_Night, Eskild_

_Til Isra (Mandag 01:13:24)_

_BABY GAYYYYYY : ( LET ME HAVE FUN_

*          *          * 

Isra knew that, though talking with both of her parents would be difficult, the conversation with her _mamma_ would be a lot harder. Because Isra knows it’s going to upset her.

First, her husband leaves her. And now her daughter’s doing the same.

The morning after dinner with her father, Isra tries to avoid her mother. Partially on instinct, but partially because Isra knows she’ll have to talk to her mother before the end of the day, and she’s not sure she’s ready, but she knows she doesn’t have a choice anymore.

( _She’s going to hurt her mother and she’s devastated about it. Because despite all their differences and the chasm that’s formed between them, Isra still remembers her mother smiling at her and making her birthday cakes as a child and kissing scrapes and bruises with the promise that it’ll make Isra feel better.)_

_(Because despite all the times her mother has inadvertently hurt her, Isra had never intentionally hurt her back.)_

“ _Mamma?_ Can I speak with you for a second?” Isra asks, hovering at the edge of her mother’s room. Isra doesn’t like to spend a lot of time in here because everything reminds her of when she used to run in here, screaming, as a child, and jump onto her parent’s bed. It feels like a mausoleum to her parents’ separation. She doesn’t know how her mother can bear to stay in that room when she spent so much time with Isra’s father in there.

Her mother looks up from the chair she’s sitting in. “Of course, Isra.” Her mother’s smile is tight, forced. 

Isra crosses the room, moving to sit in a chair opposite her. She takes a deep breath. “ _Mamma,_ I’m moving out. I want to be closer to school. My friend, Noora – she’s Eva’s friend, you know, Jonas’s ex - she used to live in a collective, but she’s moving to London with her boyfriend, so they have a vacancy. I’m friends with the other two people who live in the apartment, they’re both UiO students. I talked with _pappa_ about this, he’s supportive of it.” She’s talking rapidly, but she wants to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

Her mother is silent for a few moments. “I can see you’ve made up your mind about this.” Her voice is strained.

Isra nods. “I have. _Pappa_ wrote me a check for the first month’s rent and everything.”

Her mother nods once more, looking down at the floor. “If you think this will be good for you.”

“I think it will.” Isra says, standing out of her chair. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

Marianne nods. “Best of luck in Oslo, my love.” 

Isra nods, looking away from her mother. “Best of luck to you as well.” 

 _(Isra doesn’t know it then, but it’s the last_ real _interaction she’ll have with her mother for months.)_

_(It’s not that Isra regrets leaving. She feels that the distance is necessary, because there’s just too much her between her and her parents, and it’s not something they can all face with their current arrangement, but she can’t help it when tears prick her eyes as she shuts the door for the last time on her room with its hand painted clouds and glow-in-the-dark stars which used to hold so much promise and hope and now just made her feel lied too.)_

_(She realizes now that her father was full of shit when he used to say she should always reach for the stars but should she miss the stars, be sure to hold on tight to a handful of clouds. You’ll miss the stars and fall through the clouds and come crashing back to Earth.)_

*          *          *

_Fra Isra, Til Mona (international) (Tirsdag 23:11:19)_

_I’m moving out of the house into downtown Oslo. I can’t do this with mamma anymore. I’m sorry._

_Fra Mona (International) (Tirsdag 23:45:36)_

_I understand my dear. I’ll talk with your pappa and your grandparents about your mother. We love you._

 

*          *          *

 

July comes in full swing, and Isra out of her house and fully moved into _kollektivet,_ free from her parents and tightly embraced by Oslo and its white nights.

Mahdi comes back from New Zealand, talking about _New Zealand babes_ and _year round bikini weather_ and _I can make a bong out of a water bottle now._

And, well. At least he learned _something_ on his semester abroad.

Now that her, Magnus, Mahdi, and Jonas are all reunited, they do what they excel at: they drink a fuckton of alcohol, they smoke a lot of weed, and they spend their weekends at parties and their weekdays working shitty jobs or occasionally fucking off to someone’s relative’s cabin somewhere. 

Isra never leaves a pregame without having had the equivalent of at least six drinks, so she’s guaranteed to already be drunk by the time she shows up at a party, and then it’s just a matter of finding a guy.

The guys say things like _you could do better_ or _you used to have standards_ or _why get with all these guys and never text them back,_ but Isra Valtersen has never been afraid to do what is necessary and if she needs to be six shots deep in order to hook up with a boy and pretend to be straight for a little while, then she’ll do it. It gives her enough time to convince other people she’s straight, even if she never quite manages to convince herself. 

 _(Throughout the entire summer, she hooks up with at least 20 different guys. People say things like_ slut _and_ whore _to her, but the world’s opinions about her sex life have always meant so little to her, so why should it bother her now?)_

_(They wouldn’t be saying those things about Jonas or Mahdi or Magnus if they were doing what she does, because they’re guys and they’re expected too. People just wrongfully assume Isra’s sex life is their business.)_

*          *          *

_(Isra has one close call, one night of almost outing herself, when she is blackout drunk and hooks up with Sara Nørrstelien because Anders was being a dick and some random guys Sara and Isra were talking to said it would be hot. And what better way to fuck with her ex than to make out with his sister?)_

_(Sara is soft and warm in a way that Isra had never anticipated and for a second, everything feels_ right. _When it’s over, Isra panics, finds her way onto a landing and just sits there and cries because she’s finally found something that makes her feel whole and she knows that she can never, ever have it.)_

 _(Someone sits with her for a while, and she doesn’t know who it is, and then Jonas is there asking_ “What’s wrong?” _and_ “Did someone hurt you?” _and she just shakes her head but can’t stop crying because she wonders why she’ll never do anything right and why everything with her is always_ wrong _.)_

_(Jonas makes sure she gets home, sees her until she’s in bed, lying on her side with her backpack on so she doesn’t throw up on herself and choke in the middle of the night. They get back to Isra’s sometime around 4 and he stays until 9, when he hears Eskild moving around in the kitchen.)_

_(Eskild’s surprised to see him but Jonas fills him in quickly as Eskild’s smile slides off of his face. Jonas has to leave to go to work because his parents are worried enough that he didn’t come home last night and he wants to let Isra sleep because they both know she doesn’t do enough of that anymore.)_

_(If she says anything about Sara, girls, boys, or her feelings on any of those topics that night, well. Isra’s too drunk to remember she said it in the morning, and though Jonas remembers, he doesn’t ask questions because he can see whatever it is, it’s killing her on the inside if she has to drink so much she can’t contain it anymore.)_

_(Jonas just relies on the hope that Isra will come to him when she’s ready because he hopes that one day she’ll understand that she doesn’t have to do everything on her own.)_

*          *          *

[  _“…Come on, lift me with the right song_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgRbJ6BQDys)

[ _I've been waiting for it all night, baby_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgRbJ6BQDys)

[ _Before they turn the lights on, yeah_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgRbJ6BQDys)

[ _Come on, lift me with the right, ight, ight, ight song…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgRbJ6BQDys)

 

Isra can already feel the weed and the alcohol setting in, and the high makes her feel happy in a way she hasn’t been lately. On top of that, she’s already mildly drunk and sitting in a bathtub doing bong rips with Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi, all together (a rarity at parties sometimes) and doing what they do best. She’s sandwiched between Mahdi and Jonas in the tub, the flannel shirt she was wearing over her dress long since tossed in the corner of the bathroom, with Magnus up on a ledge above them, and somehow, this isn’t the strangest thing they’ve ever done at Eva’s house. 

“You look like a tool wearing sunglasses in a fucking bathroom, you know that, right?” Jonas scoffed at her.

“What, because I have _fashion_ and wear things other than flannel and the color _black?”_ Jonas’s peered at her over his sunglasses.

Isra rolls her eyes. “Black dress, black boots, flannel is a _classic look,_ fuck you Jonas.” 

“Can we talk about these girls, though?” Mahdi interjects. 

“I spotted them on Friday,” Magnus says, accepting the makeshift bong from Jonas.

“Nah. She’s not fuckable,” Jonas shuts him down, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose.

Mahdi scoffs at her. “What are you talking about? They’re definitely fuckable.”

“What happened to you guys, getting such low standards?” Isra shakes her head at them. “You used to be able to do so much better.”

“I’m sorry, do you get to make jokes about low standards when you gave Pål Bakken a blow job two weeks ago?” 

“I think the bigger achievement of that night was the fact that I did ten shots and decidedly _didn’t_ black out.” Isra flipped Mahdi off.

“Oh yeah, that was great until you started throwing up at 4 AM.” Jonas rolls his eyes at her.

“I could do all the girls in first year.” Magnus pipes up, taking a hit from the bong.

“You’re talking about standards, yet you hook up with _the_ ugliest guys.” He turns to look at her and adjusts his snapback. “You’re telling me that if you had to pick a chick, you _wouldn’t_ pick one of them? When was the last time you went for a dude that was _actually_ attractive?”

Isra sits up a little bit. “There is one,” she pauses, holding up a single finger with difficulty, “ _one_ cute boy who I’ve got my eye on.” She pauses for dramatic effect, and also because just how crossfaded she is is staring to set in. “I don’t know his name. Kind of tall, brown hair. Think he’s a first year. Looks like he belongs in a music video. Don’t know his name.” She thinks she’s seen this guy around a couple of times. He’s hot in a way that’s likely unattainable for her (which is good because she has limited interest in him), and she knows that odds are none of them will really remember this conversation tomorrow, so she figures she’s got nothing to lose.

Mahdi nods. “I’ve seen him around.”

Jonas has started slowly nodding as well. “The guy who looks like Jon Snow?”

“Yes!” Isra takes a second to think about what Jonas just said. “Wait, maybe not.”

Jonas shakes his head a little bit and lights the bong. “I love you, Is, and I admire your prowess. You’ve got not chance.”

Mahdi laughs. “Not in this life, not in the next one…”

“You asked me a question, I answered.” She shrugs. “You’ve been away, Disi, you don’t know my moves.”

“Dude,” Jonas looks at her, “I hear he’s a tool. His last girlfriend was like, a 20-year-old model or something.”

“He’s hot. Might as well give it a shot.” Isra’s never going to run into him, so it doesn’t even matter. They’ll make their jokes but after tonight, they won’t ask questions.

“Is everyone done with the weed?” Mahdi asks. They all nod their heads. He hands the bag off to Jonas. “You’ve got to take the stash.”

Jonas looks at him in shock. “What? No! I’m not going to – it stressed me out. Keep it yourself.”

Mahdi scoffs at him. “Just hide it outside, it’s no big deal.” 

“Nope. Not hiding it. You do it, if it’s so easy.” Jonas challenges.

Mahdi shakes his head. “I can’t have it on me! It freaks me out.”

“Holy fuck.” Isra cuts in, wanting them to shut the fuck up with their bickering. “I’ll take it if it’s such an issue.”

“It’s not even yours!” Mahdi snaps.

“Let her take it if neither of us wants to!” Jonas cuts in, moving forward and wavering slightly to look at Mahdi. _Definitely stoned out of his mind._  

“The weed’s a thousand kroner and I don’t even know her like that.”

Isra rolls her eyes. “Fuck you, Mahdi. Give me the stupid weed.”

“Don’t be a fucking dick, Mahdi.” Jonas nearly throws his hands up. “What the fuck? You’ve been friends for years _and_ you’ve just sat here smoking with her. Of course you know her. We’re all in, I’m not taking it and neither are you, so just let her have it.” 

Mahdi huffs and hands Isra the weed. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Isra responds, flattening out the bag and placing it in the back waistband of the shorts she’s got on under her dress. “Now what would you guys do without me?”

“We wouldn’t have our weed shoved halfway up your ass.” Mahdi murmurs.

 _“Women’s clothes don’t have pockets, Mahdi, where the fuck else am I supposed to put it so it doesn’t fall out?”_

“You have a jacket, don’t you, doesn’t that have pocket-“

“My jacket? You mean the flannel shirt that I wore on top of this which _definitely does not have pockets?”_

“-Can you close the door?” Jonas address to a blonde girl who she hadn’t noticed come in.

“I’m just peeing.” The girl whines, clearly drunk.

“That’s fine, just shut the door.” Jonas instructs, leaning back against the wall of the tub. 

A second later someone opens the door again. “Yo what the fuck, do I have to punch that guy?”

The girl shakes her head at him as she continues peeing. “No, but thanks for fake-dating me for a hot second there.”

 _Fuck,_ Isra thinks to herself, _it’s the guy._ The one who she had just told all her friends she was into. _And the girl with him clearly isn’t his girlfriend. Shit shit shit._

Jonas nudges her shoulder and Mahdi and Magnus snicker to themselves as the boy and his friend continue talking to one another.

“Yo, it’s your guy,” Magnus whisper-shouts at her, and thinks he’s being subtle.

“…This party is fucking boring.” The guy says as he starts rooting through Eva’s bathroom drawers.

Jonas gives her a look that says _what are you waiting for?_ And Isra sighs and stands up, nearly falling out of the tub as she does so, because she doesn’t want to make a move but she knows that if she doesn’t, her friends will question her. She steps out of the bathtub, and walks over to where the guy is standing by the counter.

“What are you looking for?” She asks, hopping up on the counter. The guy looks up in surprise.

“What?" 

Isra crosses her legs and reaches past him to grab the bottle of wine sitting on the other side of the counter and being sure to give him a nice view of her low-cut dress as she does so. She takes a quick swig from the wine bottle _(because if she’s going to do this again, as she’s been doing all summer, she needs to be_ significantly _drunker for it)._ “What are you looking for?”

He shrugs, going back to looking at the contents of the drawer. She can feel the guys staring at her. “Pills, something, whatever to make this boring party a little more exciting.” He unconsciously licks his lips as he says the last part, turning to look at her. 

“Do you know who you look like?” Isra asks, taking another swig of wine as she hops down from the counter. “Heath Ledger. From when he did _10 Things I Hate About You.”_ She watched the movie once, with Jonas’s sister. Heath Ledger had long brown hair in that, and this guy kind of does, too.

“He looked like a girl in that movie.” The girl who he came in with scoffed. Isra had forgotten she was really there at all, and elected to ignore her comment.

“I never saw it.” He looks back up at her. “Is it any good?”  
  
“The best. Definitely the movie where he looked the hottest.”

“Well, if a girl like you thinks so, then it must be true.”

She smiles at him. “I’m Isra.”

“Ely.” He smiles in return before going back to searching the drawers. “Do you know if these work?” He holds up a bunch of tablets, and she takes a step closer to him to get a good look.

“Zyrtec?” She asks, her face screwed into confusion. _He can’t be serious._ “It’s for allergies. You’ll just be tired.”

Ely sighed, tossing the Zyrtec back into the drawer. “Do you have anything?”

Isra almost said no before she remembered the Ibux tablets she had shoved into her boots before coming to Eva’s. _If he thinks Zyrtec is a drug, he probably isn’t smart enough to call her out on it._ “Yeah, actually.”

She reaches down and quickly slides them out of her boot. She remembers something she saw on a TV show once and thinks _fuck it_ and pops out two tablets. She quickly dry swallows the first and places the second on the tip of her tongue, giving Ely a look that says, _“Come and get it”._

Ely stares at her in disbelief for a second before grinning excitedly and crashing his lips against hers. 

She distantly hears the girl say an annoyed “ _Are you kidding me”_ before storming out and she hears the guys groan behind her as they all stand up slowly, gathering their things as they leave the bathroom because they sense the situation escalating. She knows Mahdi’s shaking his head at her and Jonas pats her on the shoulder on her way out.

Ely is… handsy. Which becomes quickly apparent as he maneuvers them so she has her back pressed against a wall.

After a few minutes, Ely runs a hand down the front of her dress and slips a hand under it. Isra grabs his hand slowly, trying to make it look natural, and moves it so it’s further up her body. Ely gladly accepts this change and begins palming at her breast. 

A few minutes later, Ely moves his hand under her dress again and goes for the waistband of the tight shorts she has on underneath, and Isra suddenly feels panic threatening to spill over, and quickly grabs his wrist to stop him. Ely looks up at her in confusion. “I’m on my period, sorry.” _She’s breathing quickly and she’s lying about being on her period but Ely won’t know the difference._

 _(She can make out with guys when she’s drunk enough to prove to the guys that she’s straight, but she’s not nearly gone enough for_ this.)

_(It’s becoming harder and harder to have sex with guys and pretend it doesn’t mean something, pretend that she doesn’t go home and cry afterwards because she’s living a lie.)_

Ely pauses for a second, comprehending. “Okay.” He says at last, and moves his hand back to grab her ass. “You’ve got a nice mouth,” he says, his forehead pressed against hers. He looks down quickly and then back up at her. “I’ve got an idea as to where it could be useful _.”_

Isra’s halfway to a response when the blonde girl from earlier bursts into the bathroom.  
  
“Ely, Youssef is here.” She interjects, and Isra’s never felt so relieved as Ely gives her an apologetic look and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Isra crashes against the wall and sinks down to the floor so she’s sitting against the wall. She tilts her head back, trying to stop the tears that are threatening to spill over. _What is wrong with her?_  

_(She’s fucked and blown guys and been fingered before but it’s getting to her and she doesn’t know what to feel anymore because she’s not sure how much longer she can do this.)_

She stays there on the floor for what feels like a few minutes but in reality could be a much, much longer amount of time before someone knocks on the door, wanting to use the bathroom.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and stands up. She moves towards the sink and quickly cups her hands and drinks some water and grabs her flannel shirt from the corner of the bathroom. 

She leaves the bathroom and is quickly assaulted by the loud music blasting through the room and the number of people in Eva’s house has grown considerably since she was out here earlier.

_(Someone puts on Sound of da Police, and Isra starts panicking a little bit, because there’s only one reason people would do that.)_

[ _“Woop-woop! That's the sound of da police! That's the sound of the beast!_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BxBs4f4RIU)

[ _Stand clear! Don man a-talk_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BxBs4f4RIU)

[ _You can't stand where I stand, you can't walk where I walk_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BxBs4f4RIU)

[ _Watch out! We run New York_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BxBs4f4RIU)

_[Police man come, we bust him out the park](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BxBs4f4RIU)…”_

Her suspicions are quickly confirmed when she sees two police officers in bright yellow standing by the door. She remembers the weed, still tucked into her shorts, subtle but noticeable if you know what you’re looking for ( _and Isra’s definitely high enough that it wouldn’t go unnoticed)_ , and she panics a little bit. 

She quickly spots some ugly vase that Eva’s always had out on a small table for some reason. She moves slowly through the room, keeping an eye on the police officers and making sure they don’t see her. With her back to the table, she slips the weed out of her shorts and stuffs it into the vase, making sure it won’t show, and moves away from the table.

Isra makes her way towards the door. She has no idea where the guys are, but if the police are on their way, they’re probably on their way out. 

The night is cold and Isra tightly wraps her flannel shirt around her.

Police are standing right at the main gate and Isra’s much too high and probably smells like weed and definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed.

_(She thinks of the fence that she had hopped several times before and realizes it’s her ticket out of here.)_

Isra watches the police officers by the gate as she moves to the side of the yard. They don’t seem to have noticed her.  
  
She hops the fence and is a few steps away when there’s suddenly a hand on her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Isra turns around. A police officer is standing right in front of her. _Fuck._

“Home.”

“Home?” The police officer has her arms crossed in front of her and looks unconvinced. “Over the fence?”

Isra nods. “Yes.”

“Everyone else has gone through the gate over there.” _Damn it._

Isra just sort of mumbles “ _oh I didn’t know”._ The police officer stares at her skeptically.

“Are you caring an ID? With your name and age?” Isra shakes her head. “Credit card? Driver’s license?”

Isra hears a whistle off in the distance and she looks up sharply. Jonas is a few hundred feet away on his bike. All she needs to do is get away from this police officer. 

Isra realizes she still hasn’t responded to the question. “No.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

“No. Okay. What’s you’re name?”

“Kari Eksett.” It was the name on her fake ID, and Isra was praying the police officer wouldn’t run the name right now.

“Kari. And how old are you?”

“Uh-“ Isra’s cut off as the police officer’s radio goes off.

“Hold on, I need to answer this.” The police officer turns away from her slightly, and Isra takes that opportunity to book it as quickly as possibly towards Jonas. 

She’s yelling already as she approaches. “GO! GO! GO NOW!” She’s on the bike but nearly falling off, laughing her ass off as the two of them swerve unsteadily.

“Fuck the police!” Jonas yells into the night.

“Fuck the police!” She laughs, tilting her head back. 

Jonas keeps biking until they’re at her place. Isra carefully maneuvers herself off of the rack, nearly falling onto the curb as she does so. 

“Are you gonna make it?” Jonas laughs, reaching into his coat pocket and tossing her keys at her. He misses her completely, the keys landing a few feet away from her on the ground.

“I completely forgot you had these!” Isra picks up her keys from the ground. “Thank God for you and your pockets!”

Jonas mock-salutes her as she moves towards her door. “Mahdi’s an only child. He doesn’t know. I, on the other hand, have _two_ sisters and am all-too-familiar with the struggle.”

Isra laughs again, despite herself. “Text me when you get home!” She calls back at her as she unlocks the door with her key, gently pushing it open and trying to make as little sound as possible.

“Will do!” Jonas calls back, and bikes off into the night.

The hallway is dark inside. Isra carefully toes off her shoes by the door and makes her way as silently as possible.

She feels too worn out to get changed or take off her makeup, so she tosses her jack to the side of her bed as she flops face-first onto her bed, and falls asleep within minutes.

*          *          *

She wakes up with a bitching headache and she nearly groans. _How could something so great as being crossfaded have such awful consequences?_

She quickly realizes that she’s still wearing the outfit she wore out last night, and after quickly touching a hand to her face, she realizes she also _slept in her makeup_ and she nearly gives up right then and there and goes back to sleep because her skin and her day are already fucked.

Isra rubs the sleep out of her eyes and reaches over the side of her bed to grasp at her shirt. As expected, her phone falls out of it with a light thud. She’s got several new notifications.

 

_Fra Mamma (Søndag 08:17:29)_

_(2) You 0shall not make for yourselfan idol or any likeness of what is in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the water under the earthYou shall not worship them or serve them for I the LORD your God am a jealous God visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children on the third and the fourth generations of those who hate me.but showing lovingkindness to thousands to those who Love Me and keep My commandments!!!!_

 

_Fra Jonas (Søndag 10:51:18)_

_you still have our stash?_

_Fra Jonas (Søndag 10:52:40)_

_call me when you wake up the police found some greens at Eva’s place last night and she’s pissed thinks it’s mine._

 

 _Fuck._ It’s probably theirs. The combined forces of Mahdi, Jonas, and Eva will definitely murder her.

Isra is lying on her back, fully intent to sleep until Jonas calls her back when Eskild pushes his way into her room without knocking.

Eskild’s Facetiming someone ( _probably Noora,_ Isra thinks to herself) and Linn is standing just behind him. Isra’s chosen to remain ignorant and pray that she can go back to sleep soon. “Isra? Hey! She’s awake. Still wearing last night’s outfit too! What a girl.” He holds the phone out, showing Isra’s room and speaking to whoever is on the other end. “ _The Devil’s Cave_ is what I call it. Should we say hi?"

Eskild crosses the room in several strides and throws himself onto her bed, pitching a leg over hers and resting his elbow on her thigh so that, with Linn now pressing into Isra on her other side, the three of them are squished close enough together that they can all look at the phone and be seen. 

As Isra suspected, Eskild’s got Noora on FaceTime. She’s smiling at them, hair and makeup done pristinely as usual, but Isra can’t help but notice that, even in her sleep-addled state, Noora looks different. More tired, perhaps. More worn down.

“Hi.” Isra says, half yawning.

“Say hi!” Eskild demands, elbowing her.

  
“Hi!” She responds, louder this time.

Eskild _tsks_ at her. “Our residential grumpy and tired teen is, as expected, grump and tired.”

Noora smiles at her through the phone, ignoring Eskild’s taunts. _“Hi Isra!”_

“Hi Noora!” She responds. Noora had never been anything but extremely kind to her, and Isra regrets a little bit that they hadn’t had the opportunity to develop a deeper friendship while she was still in Norway.

Eskild keeps leaning progressively more into her. “Eskild, get off of me! You’re literally on top of me.”

“Relax!” Eskild exclaims dramatically, but moves to give her a little more space.

 _“What are you guys doing today?”_ Noora smiles at them.

“Uh, relaxing I think.” Linn says, as if she normally leaves the flat to do other things.

Eskild looks at Linn, clearly having the same though as Isra, before turning back to Noora. ““Yeah. Relax. How nice. I’m going down to the flea market to sell my Warhammer collection. Just kidding. I’m going to the supermarket to buy fishcakes. Just kidding. I’m going to prepare a huge jug of Fun Light and watch a movie. With Linn." 

“ _Oh, how nice.”_

“We’re enjoying ourselves!” Eskild announces. “Noora, what are you doing?” 

_“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just find something to do.”_

“Something like what?” Eskild asks. His smile is starting to slip off of his face.

“ _William’s working, and stuff, so…”_

“Oh yeah. I see.”

_“And I haven’t gotten too many friends yet-“_

Eskild interrupts Noora, clearly not wishing for her to dwell on her loneliness. “I’m thinking, Noora...you’re in London. It’s the best city in the world.

 _“I don’t do-, I’m having a-, I’m doing-…I do a lot of fun stuff!”_  

“Yeah,” Eskild replies, clearly unconvinced.

_“So I’m doing a lot of fun things today, I guess. Or, like, I might go visit a museum.”_

“You’re going to a museum?” Eskild asks, clearly wondering when going to a museum became an acceptable definition of _fun._

“Yeah,” Noora responds, sounding hesitant. 

“Yeah, don’t visit a museum, Noora.” Eskild responds. “Can’t you do something actually fun? Don’t visit a museum and be boring? Do something fun. Go to a club, have some drinks-“

Eskild is once again encroaching on Isra’s space, and his elbow has begun to dig painfully into Isra’s arm. “You’re killing my arm,” she whines, trying to move his arm off of hers.

“Yeah, okay Isra, relax for like, a second.” Eskild complains, but moves once more to give Isra more space before he turns back to Noora. 

“But I’m doing a lot of fun stuff,” Noora insist, clearly trying to convince them all that she’s having a good time.

“Yeah. I want you to have a good time, Noora.” Eskild says, serious now. He’s slipping into what Noora had joked was his _“older brother stage”._

 _“I’m having a really good time! I’m having a really great time.”_ Noora looks uncomfortable on the other side of the screen, and moves to quickly change the subject. _“But also, how’s living with Isra? Is it alright?”_  

“Well, she doesn’t pay rent, you know!” Eskild says, exasperated. “We are _five_ days into October and she still hasn’t paid me this month.”

Isra nearly rolls her eyes at him. “Eskild I told you, I’ll pay.”

Eskild doesn’t bother pausing to respond to her. “-And everything smells like dirty laundry. And weed. While you smell nice. You smell live lovely lavender, Noora. Love you. Your friends, when they came over, at least they had the decency to smoke weed outside or, I don’t know, _open a window.”_  

“We did have the window open!” Isra insisted. She felt Linn chuckle next to her.

They talked for a few more minutes before Noora says she has to go with a resigned sigh, and ended the FaceTime. Eskild instantly looked sadder.

“I’m going back to sleep.” Linn murmurs, moving off of the bed.

Isra turns, stares at Eskild, who’s still sitting next to her and is typing something out on his phone. He locks it with a click and turns to look at her.

“Seriously though. October rent money. I need it.” 

Isra leans back against the wall, accidentally banging her head in the process. She winces. “I’ll call my dad later and sort it.”

Eskild grins at her and stands up from her bed and makes his way towards the door. “Thanks Baby Gay! Enjoy sleeping off your hangover!” 

“I told you not to call me that!” She groans into her pillow, and Isra swears she can hear him laughing in the hallway. 

*          *          * 

Once they leave, Isra quickly changes out of her dress into sweatpants and a t-shirt and takes a nap.

She wakes up an hour later, mildly impressed that she managed to fall asleep at all.

_(Overall, she’s slept a total of eight hours today, which is two more than usual, so she’s more than a little happy.)_

She checks Facebook absentmindedly, and once she sees that Eva’s online quickly shoots her off a message to (hopefully) deal with the weed situation.

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Eva Kvigg Mohn & Isra Valtersen_

_Søndag 14:11:19_

 

_Isra: Yo_

_Eva: Hi_

_Isra: How are you?_

_Eva: All right._

_Isra: Awesome.  What are you doing?_

_Eva: Hanging with Vilde_

_Isra: C00l_

_Eva: What’s up?_

_Isra: It just said that you were online.  Good party yesterday.  Was it a lot of stress_

_Eva: Yes a little stress i’ve been cleaning._

_Eva: Was it you who invited the first year girls?_

_Eva: It is Vilde chattinG_

_Isra: Hi Vilde_

_Eva: Did you hook up with Ely the first year?_

_Isra: Did I?_

_Eva: I just heard you did._

_Eva: It was ridiculous how many first years came. Only people from 2nd and 3rd year were invited. Who invited them?_

_Isra: Ridiculous. But Eva I forgot a sweater at your house. Can I come and look for it? ???_

_Fuck,_ Vilde wasn’t being helpful. She quickly sent off another message. She needed to get over there as soon as possible to get the stash.

 

_Isra: My bank card’s in there and I REALLY need to get that back_

It had a limited chance of working, but hopefully it would at least do something. Once it became apparent that Eva and Vilde were too preoccupied to respond Isra threw her phone onto her bed and opened up her backpack, nearly groaning at all the work she still had to do for Monday.

She worked on physics for a few hours, and then her phone starts buzzing again.

 

 _Facebook Messenger  
__"Chatten"_    
_Søndag 2.10.16 @ 15.30_

_Magnus: After partayyyy_

_Magnus: Where is the after party?_

_Magnus: Fy faen Isra, you inspire me._

_Jonas: B)_

_Jonas: You are dangerous Isra, giving Ibux to first year boys. What would they say if they knew the truth??_

_Mahdi: raw. He believed it._

_Isra: Yeah, he was damn high_

_Magnus: omg_

_Jonas: I promise you that fucker is crazy_

_Mahdi: how did it go_

_Isra: I think it went well. He was a little too preoccupied to say anything though ;-)_

_Magnus: Seriously?_

_Magnus: Are you kidding?_

_Magnus: Hello?_

She put her phone down on her desk, ready to forcibly bang her head against the wall if she had to spend another _second_ drawing free body diagrams for her Physics homework. She worked for another ten minutes before chalking it up as a lost cause, and leaving to find food.

*          *          *

 “-That you didn’t attend. I hooked up with this girl who I actually think, legitimately, had a cat’s tongue. I’m not sure if it was a tongue, or if it was a fake tongue.” Magnus gestured with his hands as he spoke, trying to convince them all of this girl and her _truly_ magical cat tongue.

They’re sitting at lunch, and Isra’s not really paying that much attention to Magnus. She doesn’t really care to hear about his conquests (or lack thereof) and hear the guys talk about their respective stories.

_(She doesn’t listen to a lot of their conversations, just sort of sits there and zones out, hoping no one notices.)_

Mahdi snorted. “Fake tongue." 

“Yeah, like it’s fake.” Jonas added, trying to rearrange his sandwich as he spoke.

“It was just like hooking up with a cat!” Magnus sputtered.

Jonas raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Have you ever kissed a cat before? Like, was it normal sized or what?”

“No, it was tiny and thin!”

“So, cat sized as well?”

Isra nearly rolled her eyes at her friend’s ridiculous antics. She’s contemplating saying something about how they should all shut up when her attention is captivated by an unfamiliar laugh across the room. 

She turns to look at its source, and her breath catches in her throat because she’s sure she’s staring at the most _beautiful_ girl she’s ever seen.

The girl is talking with Sana and Vilde, looking up at them as they talk about who knows what. She’s got her legs, clad in black skinny jeans, propped up on the table. She’s wearing a jean jacket with a myriad of pins stuck onto it and her hair, cut so it sits just slightly above her shoulders, looks so incredibly soft that Isra can’t help but take a second to wonder what it would feel like to run a hand through it.

A second later the girl looks away from Vilde and Sana, making eye contact with Isra. She ducks her head quickly, hoping that the other girl hadn’t noticed her staring. 

“-The blonde one. She didn’t have a clitoris.” Jonas protests, and Isra is drawn back into their conversation by their insanity.

“ _She definitely had a clitoris.”_ Isra sighs.

 _(She loves the guys, she really does, but she can’t help but wonder what it must be like to not be the only girl. She figures, at least, that Eva probably never had to explain that_ the clitoris is a thing that exists _to her friends.)_

Mahdi points at Jonas with a fry. “Agreed. I think the likelihood of you not knowing what a clitoris _is_ is higher than the likelihood of her not having one.

“How old was she?” Magnus cuts in.

“How do you even know?” Mahdi asks.

Jonas stares at them in disbelief. _“Because I went down on her?!”_

Isra’s phone vibrates in her pocket and she quickly pulls it out, starting to feel a little annoyed at this conversation because she’s not in the mood.

 

_Fra Pappa (Mandag 11:50:03)_

_Hei Isra, do you want to have dinner with me on Wednesday? Hugs, dad._

Isra is ready to throw her phone against the wall. Her father hadn’t called her back the day before or responded to any of her texts about how she _still_ needed rent money to pay Eskild.

 

_Fra Isra (Mandag 11:51:01)_

_I need money for rent. 4000 kr._

 

“-Isra! Isra! Hello!” Magnus is waving a hand in front of her face as she blinks up at her. “Has a guy ever gone down on you, and if so, how was that?”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” Isra responds absentmindedly, debating the merits of typing out a longer conversation with her father, because she’s never really been one for emojis or lengthy text messages but her father clearly isn’t getting her point.

“-You go down on chicks?” Magnus asks the guys, confused.

“Why are you surprised man? Don’t you?" 

“Uh, no?” 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I… I didn’t think it was a thing, going down on chicks.”

“Why the fuck? Because they love it man. Why are you even asking?”

“That’s true.” Isra cuts in, still looking at her phone. Her _pappa_ is typing out a response. “Makes it much more likely for a repeat.”

“I didn’t know you went down on chicks!” Magnus spluttered. “Mahdi, do you go down on chicks as well?” 

“Sometimes.” Mahdi shrugs. “It more depends-“ 

“Hi!” Vilde cuts in. Isra blinks up at her. She hadn’t even noticed her come over. 

She also hadn’t noticed Sana come over, now standing slightly behind her.

Vilde starts talking about some _kosegruppa_ thing; the guys try to politely tell her they’re disinterested, but Vilde’s either not picking up on it or she flat-out doesn’t care. Isra suspects it’s the latter. 

Vilde drones on about _cooking_ and _kos_ and _good vibes_ and Isra just thinks about the fact she got five hours of sleep last night and is likely to get the same amount tonight and she can’t help but wonder why she can’t fall asleep at night _but she’s ready to take a nap right now._

Eva suddenly appears behind the two of them, texting someone on her phone, and Isra doesn’t want to hurt Vilde’s feelings but she desperately needs to get their weed back. 

“Eva! Have you seen my messages?” Eva looks up at her, seemingly startled. “I forgot my jacket at your place.” 

“Uh…yeah.” Eva says, giving her a confused look. “I’ll look for it.”

 _Shit._ “Uh, I have to come by and look for it. I know what it looks like.” 

“Can’t you just describe what it looks like?” 

Fuck fuck fuck. This conversation was a mistake. “Yeah. Yeah I could do it.” Eva stares at her expectantly and gestures for her to continue after a few seconds. “It’s…black?” She doesn’t mean for her answer to come out like a question, but it does, and Isra can barely fight the urge to smack herself in the forehead. 

“Okay. A black sweater. Got it.” Eva says, and walks away without another word.

“Let us know if you’d like to join!” Vilde says, still radiating enthusiasm, before she flits away after Eva.

“ _A sweater?!”_ Jonas stares at her in disbelief, his voice low and quiet. _“That’s your master plan?”_

“What’s up?” Mahdi asks, looking between the two of them. Jonas gives Isra a look. 

Isra sighs, tossing her phone on the table. “I had to high the shit at Eva’s place.”

Mahdi tilts his head at her _. “Are you serious?!”_

“I’ll fix it.”

Mahdi huffs at her. “You owe us 1,000 kr if you don’t.” 

She turns and looks at him, unable to hide her annoyance. “Mahdi. I said I’ll fix it.” She takes a bite out of her sandwich and quickly makes a face, throwing it back down on the table.

“What, was it not good?” Jonas jokes, clearly trying to diffuse the tension.

Magnus reaches over, picking up a slice of her bread to see what’s in her sandwich. She quickly swats at his hand. “Ask first! Catfucker.” She can’t help but laugh. “Now there’s cat on it. You can have the rest.” She pushes it slightly over. 

They converse for a few more minutes before they all go their separate way for classes.

As Isra walks to Physics, she sees she has a new message from her father and quickly opens it.

 

_Fra Pappa (Mandag 12:04:16)_

_I’ll transfer the money later today_

_Fra Pappa (Mandag 12:05:48)_

_Can you do dinner Wednesday, though?_

 

She turns off her phone and slips it into the side pocket of her backpack as she walks into her physics classroom. She doesn’t feel like dealing with her father right now.

 

*          *          *

_Facebook Messenger_

_Tirsdag 4.10.16 @ 18:29_

_“Catfucker and Friends”_

_Mahdi: where is it_

_Magnus: what_

_Mahdi: g_

_Isra: Working on it_

_Mahdi: soon there will be interest + 1k_

_Jonas: relax Escobar_

_Jonas: But seriously Isra. Fix it._

_You have given this group the name “Catfucker and His Friends”_

_Magnus: real fucking funny_

_Isra: I try_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Tirsdag 4.10.16 @ 21:56 PM_

_Eva Kvigg Mohn & Isra Valtersen _

_Isra: Hey Eva, is there any chance I could come by later and look for my sweater????_

_Eva: Sorry Isra I’m out right now_

_Isra: Is there any chance you’ll be home soon?_

_Eva: I don’t know_  
Eva: But seriously, I don’t think your sweater’s at my house.  
Eva: There was plenty left behind, but no sweater  
Eva: Did you forget panties? Or 4 different shoes? A bra? An iPhone 6+? A burnt soda bottle?

_Eva: Do you know where you would have left it?_

_Isra: No, but I can come by and look tomorrow_

*          *          * 

Isra’s not concerned with telling other people how to live their lives. Really, if anything, people can make their own decisions, and as long as they’re not hurting themselves or anyone else, well, then that’s fine.

What she is concerned with? Is how her _fucking biology teacher never wears a bra._

Because that, frankly, is hurting Isra. And probably every other student in their class.

The _absolute, dead last thing_ Isra needs in her life is to see her mid-50s biology teacher’s nipples through her far-too-tight white shirt. Every time her eyeballs are assaulted with this image, she worries that, when she dies, this is going to be the only image she sees because she’s certain that it’s _going to haunt her forever._

Isra startles as someone dumps their bag and slides into the seat next to her.

“Hi.” Sana says, and Isra blinks at her in surprise. 

“Hi.”

Sana’s staring straight ahead at their teacher, and Isra briefly wonders if Sana is similarly horrified by their teacher’s nipples when Sana quietly says “I’ve got your drugs,” and Isra feels like she can hear something like anger seeping into her words.  
  
“What?”

“The stuff you left at Eva’s place. I’ve got it.”

Isra spares a quick glace to their teacher before leaning towards Sana so she can whisper. “You have it?!”

Sana turns sharply towards her, glaring furiously. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s when someone fucks over their friends.

Isra blinks at her in surprise. This…wasn’t what she was expecting. “What do you mean?”

“Eva could have gotten into a lot of trouble if they’d found it.”

“Okay, she could have, but they didn’t.” Isra keeps glancing back towards their teacher, hoping she doesn’t notice.

“They didn’t find it because I took it.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I left it there. Thank you for taking it. I kind of need it back though. It’s note even mine.” Isra _really_ needs Sana to get to the point here.

“I should get a reward for saving it from the police.”

Isra is ready to forcibly shake Sana. “ _Do you think this is a fucking Narcos episode?_ Can’t you just give it to me?”

“I want ten percent of the drugs.” Sana turns, stares her dead in the eye, as if to say _try and stop me._

Isra’s a little confused. She didn’t think Muslim people smoked weed. “Do you smoke?”

“No.” Sana shrugged, turning back to the board. “But it’s good to have some. And I want all of your friends to join _kosegruppa._ It’s the _best_ review of them all!” 

“Okay, whatever. We’ll join _kosegruppa_. But then you have to give it to me.”

Sana nods. “Yup.” 

“So give it to me.” 

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’ll get it when I see you and your friends at the meeting.

“…Sana and Isra, you can work together.” Their teacher says, nipples and all, as she drops a stack of papers on their desk.

“ _What?!”_ Sana sits up instantly, shocked. “No, I don’t sit here.”

The teacher _tsks_ at Sana, and Isra narrows her eyes a little at her. She can’t help but feel that their teacher is disapproving of Sana. “Can’t you work together with Isra, Sana? You can work together with someone who isn’t Muslim. That’s how things work in Norway.”

Isra stares at her teacher in disbelief for a few seconds as she walks off to another table. “Did she really just say that?”

Sana just sighs, looking down at her paper. “Don’t worry. Shit like that happens a lot.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” Isra murmurs as she begins flipping through her biology packet. 

*          *          * 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Onsdag 5.10.16 @ 14:59 PM_

_Vilde Hellerud Lien & Isra Valtersen _

 

_Vilde: Israyaki!!!_

_Vilde: Sana told me that you are super excited to be part of our kose group!_

_Vilde: It’s the coolest group, you will soon realize_

_Isra: Is that what she said_

_Vilde: And Jonas and them_

_Isra: Yup, we’ll be there_

_Vilde: I will send them a Facebook message_

_Isra: I fix_

_Vilde: Ok :)_

_Vilde: The meeting is in the theater on Friday at 19_

_Vilde: You must be on time. IMPORTANT_

_Vilde: It will be a lot of fun and tasty buns and information on what we will be doing until the revue_

_Isra: K, see you then!_

_Vilde: Spread the love and joyful word. On insta and stuff, it works really well :D_

*          *          *

 

_Fra Mamma (Onsdag 15:21:18)_

_YouHAVE persevered and have ENdured hardshipsfor MYNAME, and have not grown weary4YET I hold this against you:You haveFORSAKEn the love youhad at first. 5 CONSIDERhow far you HAVE FALLEN! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to yOUANDREMOVe your lampstand fromitsplace!!!!!!_

_Fra Isra, Til Pappa (Onsdag 17:55:52)_

_I still need rent money._

_Fra Isra, Til Pappa (Onsdag 17:56:19)_

_It’s 6 october. I have to pay Eskild._

_Fra Pappa, Til Isra (Torsdag 09:11:52)_

_It should all be in there now. Would you want to have dinner on Friday?_

 

*          *          *

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Torsdag 6.10.16 @ 11:53 AM_

_“Kollektivet”_

 

_Eskild: Prettygirllllllllllllllll_

_Eskild: Money money money_

_Eskild: We are seven days into october_

_Eskild: You have to pay the rent_

_Isra: Sorry, I’ll transfer it when I get home_

_Eskild: :* <3 _

_Linn: Isak, you must wash the stairs_

_Isak: It’s your week_

_Linn: since you did not pay on time_

_Linn: And I’m sick_

_Eskild: I actually agree with Linn, Issy,_

_Isra: please don’t call me that_

_Noora: I agree_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Torsdag 6.10.16 @ 11:53 AM_

_“Catfucker & Friends”_

_Isak: The group meeting is at 7pm_

_Isak: Done. Problem solved_

*          *          *

 

Isra’s lying in bed watching _The X-Files_ when there’s a knock at her door.

“Come in!” She calls, not bothering to move from where she’s sitting.

Someone pushes her door open slowly. “Why,” Eskild yawns, rubbing at one of his eyes, “are you still awake right now?”

Isra pauses it quickly, lowering her laptop screen. “What?”

Eskild blinks at her, still groggy. “I have the unfortunate reality of having to be at work in an hour. You don’t have to be at school for another four. It’s – “ Eskild pauses to check the time on his phone. “ _4:15 in the morning.”_

Isra stares at him. She hadn’t thought that she had been awake for that long. “I was asleep for like, three hours and then couldn’t fall back asleep. So I’m watching X-Files.”

Eskild stares at her, looking tired and confused. “Does this happen a lot?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes. I usually only sleep, like, 5-6 hours. After this episode I’ll probably go back to sleep for another hour or two.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Eskild’s staring at her with worry now. 

Isra shrugs. “It’s just how things have been.”

Eskild stares at her for a few more seconds and looks like he’s contemplating saying something, but decides against it. Finally, he says, “please try and get some more sleep.” 

Isra stares at him skeptically. “You don’t have to parent me.” 

Eskild rolls his eyes at that. “Between you and Noora, sometimes I feel like parenting is the only thing I ever do.”

“Have fun at work, Eskild.”

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Eskild says, turning and closing the door. Isra turns out her lamp and resumes watching Mulder and Scully combat their monster-of-the-week.

*          *          * 

Isra’s been at the _kosegruppa_ meeting for three minutes and she’s already bored, tired, and _ready to leave._

She shoots off a message to the guys, because if they don’t show up she will seriously considering murdering them and/or selling all of their personal possessions on the internet.

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Fredag 7.10.16 @ 19:15_

_“Catfucker & Friends”_

 

_Isra: where the fuck are you guys ?!?! I’m not staying here by myself, it’s everyone’s weed_

Isra distantly notices Chris and the boy she’s always with (Kasper?) come in and take seats, even though Isra is willing to bet her left foot that Kasper doesn’t actually go to Nissen.

Then suddenly, the girl from lunch walks in, and Isra can’t look away.

Isra’s realizes that this girl is _tall._ She’s talking with Vilde, Sana, and Eva, and she must be at least a solid six inches taller than them.

_(She looks at her hair and wonders what it would feel like between her fingers.)_

Suddenly, the girl’s eyes snap to hers and Isra looks down, feeling a blush creep onto her face.

Her phone buzzes with a Messenger notification and she looks down, desperate to avoid eye contact with the girl.

_Jonas: So sorry, I had to help my mom with something. I’ll be there as fast as I can._

_Magnus: Fuck, was that today????_

Isra suppressed a groan. _Of course they couldn’t actually follow through. Those fuckers_. 

“Hey! You joined _kosegruppa_?” Isra looks up and nearly rolls her eyes. Ely from the party. _Fuck._ Today was not her day.

“Yeah.” Isra tries to smile but it’s more of a grimace. “I’m friendly with some of the girls who run it. So." 

Ely nods. He’s got his blonde friend back with him. Isra is sure the blonde girl told her her name, but she can’t remember it and she isn’t too bothered by it.

_(She’s more bothered by Ely, for instigating this conversation, if nothing else.)_

Ely is, fortunately, cut off by a very nervous Vilde going on a spiel about splitting into groups and cooking in an effort to spread _*~good vibes~*_ and _*~ good atmosphere~*_ and Isra nearly rolls her eyes because this is _so Vilde._

Vilde starts going on about how they all are going to do a “love exercise” and Isra decides that now is the best time to make an exit. She waits until everyone starts moving and then she walks out of the door.

She moves slowly through the hallway, running her hand along the wall, because she doesn’t think she’s ever been this desperate to kill time in her life.

She walks into the bathroom and goes into a stall, moving the lid down and sitting on top of it. 

Ten games of solitaire, two games of Uno, and four minutes of playing _Fish Tycoon_ later, Isra resigns herself to returning to the _kosegruppa_ meeting.

She freezes the second she walks out of the door because _the girl_ from earlier is standing there washing her hands.

Isra moves up to wash her hands in the sink next to the girl, and notices her staring. Isra stares right back at her

The girl moves to grab a tissue, and Isra shuts off the sink water and waits for her to be finished. 

What she doesn’t anticipate is that this girl will take the opportunity to pull _every single one of the tissues out of the dispenser._

Isra’s speechless. She was already flustered because she can’t stop thinking about this girl, but now she’s flustered _and_ confused. 

As the girl finished pulling paper towels out, she looks over to Isra. “Oh. Did you need tissues?”

The girl doesn’t wait for Isra’s response (because Isra’s still speechless and she doesn’t think she could come up with a response if her life depended on it right now), just picks one of the paper towels out of the trash can, smooths it out, and hands it to Isra. 

The girl quirks her eyebrows at Isra. She pulls a joint out from behind her ear and waves it at Isra. _An invitation._ “Come outside,” the girl says, and it doesn’t sound like a question.

Isra stands there shocked for a moment, as the door swings shut behind the girl. _What just happened?_

Eventually, Isra realizes that the girl invited her to smoke and, well, if Isra didn’t already have a thing for her, she certainly does now.

Isra leaves the bathroom and walks around, quickly finding the girl on a bench not far from the _kosegruppa_ meeting. 

The girl quirks an eyebrow at her as she approaches, offering her the joint. Isra hops up on the bench next to her, still leaving a few inches between them because Isra’s not sure that she’ll be able to handle it if they sit any closer. Isra feels the girl watching her as she lights the joint.

“Do you know the group leader girl? The blonde one?” The girl asks as Isra exhales. 

Isra takes a second to clear her throat because the girl’s voice was somehow _more beautiful_ than she had ever imagined but she hopes the other girl just thinks it’s from the smoke. “Vilde?” Isra giggles a little bit. “With the ‘love’ exercise?” 

“Yeah, what was that?” The girl is grinning now.

Isra shrugged, unable to hold back a laugh. “No, I mean…I had to leave. I couldn’t deal with that. Too much Vilde. What even happened?”

The girl turned to her, trying to screw her expression into a serious on but failing miserably. “Vilde made us walk around and feel each other up in a dark room. Wherever you touched someone, you had to lick them there.”

Isra laughs because this girl is so clearly fucking with her. “Uh, _no.”_

The girl laughed again, and the two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence.

“What class are you in?” Isra spoke up at last.

“3STB.” The girl responded, taking a hit from the joint.

Isra paused. She would have noticed this girl last year. “But you didn’t go here last year?”

Isra tuned to look at her and caught the girl exhaling her smoke and _fuck,_ it was hot. “No, Bakka.”

“Wait, you transferred your final year?” _No one transfers their final year._

“Hey!” Isra looks up and is instantly frustrated. “So this is where you went.”

“Hi Ely.” Isra says, not even trying to smile at him this time. 

“We’re in the process of grouping up and they want us to pick pairs. And I don’t know that many people. So I was thinking that it’d be pretty chill if we grouped up.”

Isra doesn’t even need to spend time coming up with a lie before the girl is nudging her shoulder. “I thought we were in a group together?" 

Isra turns back to Ely and nods vigorously as his face falls. “Oh yeah! Right. I had kind of already agreed to be in a group with…” Isra realizes she never actually found out the girl’s name and has a fake coughing fit in an attempt to cover it up.

“Evanna.” The girl says with a smile, stretching out her hand. _Evanna._

“Ely,” He says, shaking it. “So? I’m sure we could be a three.”

“Oh yeah. I think she said pairs, but we can most certainly ask.” Evanna says, clearly not happy with this situation.

“It did seem like Vilde was really clear.” Isra contributes, because if nothing else, she doesn’t want Ely cutting in on their time together.

“Okay, so we’ll ask.” Ely nods, and climbs up on the bench. He sits close enough to Isra that their touching from knee to shoulder and Isra instinctively moves towards Evanna in an effort get away from him, which really just results in her being sandwiched with Evanna pressed against her one side

As far as uncomfortable situations go, it’s not the _worst_ experience of her life (because she met Evanna and got to talk to her, for once), but it’s definitely Top 10.

_(They three of them part ways soon after and head in opposite directions.)_

_(Isra can’t stop smiling her entire walk home.)_

*          *          *

_Facebook Messenger_

_Lørdag 8.10.16 @ 19:15_

_“Catfucker & Friends”_

_Jonas: Unfortunately I did not make it to your revue thing Isra_

_Isra: It wasn’t my revue thing_

_Jonas: Is it too late to say sorry_

_Isra: stop_

_Magnus: Cause I’m missing more than just your body_

_Isra: no mags_

_Jonas: was it cool?_

_Isra: Not at all_

_Mahdi: Fuck revue_

_Mahdi: Did you get the stuff_

_Isra: Sana won’t reply to the chat but I’ll get it_

_Mahdi: Oh well_

_Mahdi: What’s happening tonight?_

_Magnus: something cool_

_Magnus: getting drunk_

_Isra: Easy. Where?_

_Jonas: where_

_Magnus: where_

_Jonas: I’m damn hungry_

_Jonas: Food_

_Isra: food_

_Magnus: food_

_Mahdi: food_

_Mahdi: So drunk  
_

*          *          *

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 19:57:12)_

_I watched as theLamb opened theFIrst of theSEVEN seals. Then I HEARDONE OF THE four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, “COME!”_

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 19:58:58)_

_Your uncle is on TV again. USA Election?_

 

*          *          *

[ _“…Cut my ties, I sold my rings_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _I wanted none of this_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _If you start from scratch you have to sing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _Just for the fun of it_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _I’d be alright, if I could just see you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _Come up for air, come up for air_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _A miracle mile, where does it lead to_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

[ _Come up for air, come up for air…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vq3mLvnBcTo)

 

Music is blaring at the Munchies in Grünnerløkka where the ultimately decided to go, because they love alcohol and they love burgers, and Munchies is the best combination of the two.

“Finally!” Magnus proclaims as she dumps her bag at their table. “What took you so long?”

“I had some things I had to do,” Isra says, pulling her wallet out of her bag and walking up to the front to order.

She spends a second standing at the front of the cramped building (Grünnerløkka isn’t exactly known for its cheap rent and abundant spaces) before she makes a decision. 

She opens her wallet, quickly checking that she has enough money. She's got 200 kr, but that should be enough. She’s checked her bank account recently enough to know that it’s practically empty. 

She grabs a beer out of the fridge and puts it in front of the ordering station. “Hi, can I get the burger of the month with fries, please? Thanks.” She says quickly to the bored man running the register, and minutes later she’s got her food and she makes her way back to the table.

“That looks disgusting.” Mahdi makes a face of disgust as she sits down.

“Uh, _don’t hate me cause you ain’t me.”_ She retorts, eating a fry.

“What’s even on it?” Jonas asks, poking at her burgers.

Isra shrugs and eats another fry. “Not sure. Pineapples. Bacon.

Jonas gives her an indignant look. “Why would you put pineapples on a burger?”

“Because pineapples make everything better!" 

“Bullshit.” Mahdi says, shaking his head. “That’s just not true.”

“Uh, _yes,”_ Isra protests. “Burgers. Pizza. Desserts. _Rum.”_

“Is it true that pineapple juice makes guys taste better during blow jobs?” Magnus asks, and Isra contemplates banging her head against the wall as Mahdi and Jonas _cackle_ beside her.

Isra props her elbow up on the table and rests her face in her hand. “Magnus, buddy, I don’t think it works like that.” 

“But I read something online and you’ve probably sucked more dicks than the rest of us-“

Isra looks up at him. “ _Do you think I ask guys if they’ve eaten pineapple before I blow them?”_

“I don’t know,” Magnus sputters. “It was a perfectly reasonable question!”

“Uh, _no,_ it really wasn’t Magnus.”

Jonas nods, still laughing. “A little weird, Mags. Just a little bit.”

“Magnus-“

“Hey!” The four of them looked up to see two girls standing at the ends of the table.

“Hey! Camilla! How are you?” Magnus asks loudly, sounding nervous. 

“Oh, you know, just busy. Haven’t seen you since last weekend. What’s been up?”

Mahdi quickly put a hand over his mouth, leaning over to talk to Isra. “I think this is cat tongue lady.” 

Isra blinks in surprise, quickly blinking and looking back and forth between Magnus and this girl. _No fucking way._

“-So where did you guys meet?” Jonas asks, looking between Magnus and Camilla.

Camilla shrugs smugly. “Oh, you know, just a party last weekend. We had a fun time.”

“Yeah, we did.” Magnus agrees.

Isra sips on her beer to keep from laughing as Camilla goes on about _connections_ and shit like that.

“-Time! We should definitely hang out again.” 

Magnus nods, starting to look a little too desperate to get Camilla and her friend to leave. “Yeah, most definitely.” 

“Hey, what if we took a picture together, guys?” Isra cuts in, because she likes to be an asshole. Jonas snorts across from her. 

“Yeah! Totally.” Camilla says. “Do you want it on your phone?” 

Isra nods, handing her her phone as her and Jonas each scoot their chairs a little bit so they’re all on the same side.  
  
Camilla takes several pictures of them, sitting with their half-eaten burgers and half-finished beers and their arms around each other’s shoulders.

“Camilla, you should hop in one!” Mahdi says, trying (and failing) to stifle his laugher once more.

“Okay!” She says, and moves to wrap her arms around Magnus from behind as their friend snaps another picture. 

Camilla and her friend leave soon after, and her, Jonas, and Mahdi descend into laughter. 

“You guys are assholes, you know that?” Magnus asks, crossing his arms. “Total fucking assholes.”

“I don’t know, Magnus, her tongue didn’t look like a cat’s to me.” Isra says, shrugging and laughing as Magnus chucks a fry at her. 

“Not funny! What if she doesn’t want to see me again because all of my friends are dicks?”

They stay there for a few hours, getting progressively drunker until they walk around Grünnerløkka for shits and end up sitting on a park bench for nearly an hour before they all get too cold to stay there. 

They all go back to Isra's for a little bit and play Fifa, drinking Eskild's beer out of the fridge and leaving money to pay him back on the table. When all of the guys leave sometime around midnight, Isra can’t resist putting the photo on her rarely-used Instagram account and smacking a cat emoji over Camilla’s face.

 _(Magnus texts her a few minutes later with a simple “Fuck you!!!!!!!” and she can’t help but grin.)_  

*          *          * 

Isra doesn’t end up falling asleep until nearly 3, and she wakes up again at 10, which is _horribly_ early for a Sunday.

She figures she could use the time to work out but that sounds like a horrible option, so she decides to take a leisurely shower instead. She gets out of the shower and puts her hair up in a towel, throwing on a sweatshirt and shorts and crawling back into bed. 

A few minutes later Eskild pops into her room unannounced and sprawls out on the end of the bed.

_(Isra suspects that Eskild misses Noora, hence why he always comes in her room just to hang out like this, but Isra can’t replace Noora, and doesn’t even think she would know how to start even if she could.)_

They sit in peaceful silence for a little bit. Isra’s playing music off of her laptop, and Eskild makes the occasional comment about how he doesn’t like her music taste ( _“Everclear isn’t real music, Isra! And everyone else stopped listening to Eminem eight years ago”)._ It’s almost peaceful. 

Isra pulls up her Instagram again, quickly clicking through the “like” notifications from the night previously.

She pauses for a moment, and then goes into the search bar and types in _Evanna._

The results are all a little random, with the actress from the _Harry Potter_ movies popping up first. The accounts that follow that one are all set to private, and none of them have icons that match what Evanna looks like, so she just might not have one. Isra knew it was a long shot, anyways. She doesn’t even know her last name. 

_(Isra thinks it’s weird. Evanna had such a strong “hipster vibe that she feels like Instagram would be the perfect place for her.)_

They’re listening to [some song by The Black Keys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZ2xc_d8uUw) when Eskild scoots up next to her and thrusts his phone at her. “Look at this guy, do you think he’s handsome.”

Isra stares at him for a second. He’s got brown hair and a nice face, she guesses. “Yeah. I think he’s cute." 

Eskild nods, flipping through his other photos. “We’re gonna meet up.”

Isra nods a little bit, not really interested. “Good for you.” 

Eskild goes back to his phone. “Have you seen Kjersti’s new thing?”

“Hm?” Isra asks, looking up from her own.

“Kjersti’s been seeing someone. She’s cute, I met her the other day.”

“Cool. I haven’t really talked with Kjersti in a while.” The two of them hadn’t really spoken since Isra had moved in. Not for any particular reason, more so because the two of them just drifted apart.

Eskild thrusts a photo in front of her. The girl has brown hair and is smiling in the picture. She’s pretty, Isra guesses, and she voices as such.

“But do you think Kjersti should be dating her? OR could she do better?” 

“I don’t know. It’s Kjersti’s relationship. Kind of her own business.”

“But would _you_ date her?” 

“I don’t know, Eskild. I don’t know her. Probably not.”

“Why? Because she’s a girl?”

Isra rolls her eyes at him. “It’s Kjersti’s life. Let her do what she wants.”

“Okay, no need to be so aggressive, you can think girls are not and not be gay, Isra,” Eskild mutters, holding a hand up in, mock surrender. “So, back to me.” 

Isra nods. “The Grindr guy?”

“He says he’s not gay, he just sucks cock for fun. I give him a year until he’s ou of the closet.”

“Eskild, you think every guy is gay.”

“Uh, _not_ true. But I have a pretty good gaydar.”

Isra nearly rolls her eyes. “Okay, so then what is it that makes you have a good gaydar? What are the characteristics of gays?” 

Eskild needs a second to think on that. “Okay, uh, yeah. Okay. One clue, for example, is for gay guys, if you start talking about giving blowjobs just like, out of nowhere. Plus, you’re a little suspicious when you have a Grindr profile. With lesbians, it’s usually, like, if they’re just with another girl and they randomly bring up sex, but either in an ambiguous way or in a way where it’s clear they’re not talking about it with a guy. With girls, though, now it’s harder to tell who’s gay and who’s just a hipster.” 

Isra’s mind flashes back to Evanna’s “ _Wherever you touched someone, you had to lick them there”_ because _that_ sounds pretty unambiguously like sex. Without reading into it too much. 

Eskild’s phone rings and he answers it in a second. “Hi!” Eskild says, standing up. He turns to Isra, mouths, “ _It’s Noora”_ and starts walking out of her room. “I’m in Isra’s room. Yeah, it…ugh, yeah No, it’s better now. She cleaned up a bit. So-“

Isra’s phone buzzes in her hand, and she merely glances at the notification before dismissing it. She rolls over and decides to ignore her homework a little longer and take a nap.

 

_Fra Mamma (Søndag 11:37:19)_

_THEENDISCOMIN!!!!!!!!!!G AREYOU PREPARED!!!!!HAVEYOU BEEN TO CHURCHRECENTL?!????Y DIDYOUBEG FORGIVENES!!!!S ISRAETERNAL DAMNATIONAWAITS IFYOUDON’T THE BIBLESAYS-_

 

*          *          * 

The first thing that draws Isra’s eye to the revue sign-up board is the large sheet of paper Vilde had put up labeled “ _KOSEGRUPPA_ ” surrounded by cartoony cupcakes.

The second, of course, is the name _EVANNA BECH NÆSHEIM_ written in all caps a few lines down.

 _(The name makes Isra pause for a second as she thinks of the beautiful, tall girl from kosegruppa. Somehow, the name just_ fits _her.)_

Isra checks her watch. _8:17._ She’s got some time until class starts, but it wouldn’t hurt to show up early and just chill. 

She walks through the building, quickly ducking into the biology room and seeing only one other person there, in the front. She quickly heads to her seat in the back, pulling up her laptop.

 _(She’s got a last name, so surely Isra must be able to find out_ something _about Evanna on Google. She keeps turning the name over in her head.)_

She goes to Facebook, but turns up no results. Frustrated, she goes to Google. Still no social media results, but there are some links from what Isra guesses is her time at Bakka, and some YouTube video.

She clicks on the first video, which links her to what looks like a project of sorts. _Interview With: Evanna Bech Næsheim, by Mikaela._

The video cuts to a handheld shot of a girl with dark hair wearing a baseball cap. _“Straight out of Elvebakken…”_ she announces, playing dramatic music in the background. A title slide flashes on screen: _MIKAELA 2MKC PRESENT: PROJECT 1. INTERVIEW WITH…”_

“ _Today I’m gonna talk with my best friend Evanna.”_ The girl (Mikaela) grins into the camera, and the switches it so it’s facing Evanna.

Evanna’s wearing a flannel shirt and a baseball hat and laughing at Mikael behind the camera. “ _What’s up yo? Can you tell me about your movie?”_ Mikaela asks.

Evanna grins again, and Isra misses seeing it in person. “ _This movie is about, uh, Captain America and Vladimir Putin falling in love with each other. But they can’t be together because Sarah Palin has cursed them. So every time they kiss, uh, a kitten dies of AIDS.”_ A bad graphic of a cat flashes on screen as Evanna talks. 

“ _Holy shit, that’s rough.”_ Mikaela pipes up. “ _Who’s the Barbie doll? Sarah Palin?”_

“ _No!”_ Evanna says indignantly. _“She’s just Barbie. All the movies always have a gratuitous hot chick. The patriarchy at work.”_

_“Agreed.”_

_“Yeah. I guess you could consider Sarah Palin the hot chick if things get desperate.”_

_“Uh, no.”_

Evanna just laughs at Mikaela, and Isra thinks it’s quite possibly one of the most beautiful sounds she’s ever heard. 

_“Evanna, who’s your favorite director?”_

_“Uh, Baz Luhrmann.”_

_“Seriously?”_

_“I don’t fuck around about Baz.”_

_“Baz Luhrmann? Seriously?”_

_“Why are you so skeptical?”_

_“Because he only makes tacky cliché movies and shit, Ev. Where all the main characters always die.”_

_“Not always! Besides, he makes epic love stories.”_

_“You’re such a fucking sap.”_

_“The main characters have to die, or else the love story won’t be epic.”_

_“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, Evanna. And you say a lot of dumb shit. You’re gonna get an E. What the-_

“Hello,” Sana says from beside Isra suddenly, startling her and causing her to almost slam her laptop shut on her hand.  
  
“Hi!” Her voice squeaks as she tries to act casual. Sana’s eyes narrow at her. “Do you have my stuff?”

“What stuff?” Sana asks, feigning ignorance. 

“What stuff?”

“I thought you said it wasn’t yours?”

Isra sighs. She doesn’t feel like playing this game today. “Can’t you just give it to me?” 

Sana shrugs, staring ahead. Without Isra noticing, more people had begun to file into their classroom. “I also didn’t see your friends at the _kosegruppa_ meeting.” 

 _“Well I can’t exactly make them come, can I?”_ Isra demands, frustrated.

Sana shrugs. “ _Control your hoes,_ is all I’m saying.”

“Sana, I’m not doing this anymore.”

Sana pauses for a second. “Nope, neither am I. Where do you want it?” 

“You have it?”

“Yup.”

Both of them bend over, unzipping their bags. 

“- _SANA AND ISRA!_ What are you doing?” They both look up sharply to see their teacher standing mere feet in front of them and, in their panic; Sana quickly shoves the weed into her hijab. Isra’s mildly impressed at her quick thinking because she can still feel her heart beating rapidly. 

“What did you put in your burka just now?” Their teacher demands, and Isra does a double take at that because _Sana doesn’t wear a burka?_

 _“My burka?!”_ Sana demands, looking at their teacher with a mixture of confusion and anger. 

“Yeah, uh, your niqab then.” Their teacher says. Everyone in the class is staring at them, and Isra has a moment of remembering Sana’s _don’t worry about it, it happens a lot_ at their teacher’s remarks the other day, and she suddenly can’t contain her frustration. 

 _“_ Uh, _niqab?_ You don’t know the name of the garment ten percent of your students wear? What, are you racist?”

Her teacher looks panicked as soon as Isra drops the word “racist”. “Okay, well, what’s it called then?”

“It’s called a hijab!” Isra is nearly shouting, but this is outrageous. _Does Sana have to deal with this every day?_

“Okay, hijab.” The teacher nearly shrugs, and Isra feels another swell of anger because Isra can _see_ how upset Sana is but their teacher apparently couldn’t give less of a fuck. “But now you two need to be paying attention up here. Please. Because class is just about to start.” Her teacher starts walking away. “And…you know…it’s a subject that’s pretty hard…”

Isra spares a glace at Sana, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused and unseeing, and Isra grips the desk so hard she’s surprised it doesn’t break.

_(Isra texts Sana after class. A simple message: “fuck our racist biology teacher, you’re the shit.”_

_She gets a text back from Sana hours later while Isra’s sitting in bed. “I know. Thanks.”_

_Isra knows it’s not enough, not when Isra’s seen two instances of thinly-veiled Islamophobia in less than a week in one class because she can't imagine how shitty that is for Sana.)_

*          *          *

 

 _Facebook Messenger  
_ _Tirsdag 11.10.16 @ 13:56  
_ _“Kollektivet”_

 _Noora: what’s up in kollektivet?_  
  
Isra: Hello  
  
Eskild: Noora  <3 <3 <3  
  
Linn: <3  
  
Eskild: what’s up is that we miss YOU. So so much.  
  
Noora: <3  
Noora: I miss you all  
  
Eskild: what’s up in London?  
  
Noora: EVERYTHING happens in London  
Noora: No I’m just hanging around right now. Will hit William up soon when he finishes his job  
Noora: will make a blog. London Mistress.

_Linn: I’ll read it_

_Noora: But what’s up in Oslo?_

_Eskild: Linn had external testing in English so we drank a bit of juice and Ostepop yesterday. Isak paid rent, washed the stairs, and had the guys over last weekend_

_Noora: I have friends  
Noora: And thank you Linn _

_Eskild: Who are they? ?_

_Noora: One who works at that café I hang out at_

_Eskild: Okay Noora. You need a friend.  
Eskild: I hung out with Eva over the weekend. She ran to hang with her hottie Chris btw. _

_Noora: I know, they’ve had a thing for a while now_

_Eskild: they’re a hot couple_

_Noora: They are not dating  
Noora: What’s up with Nissen, Isra? _

_Isra: Nissen is the same as always_

_Eskild: Linn and I are saving all our bottles to collectively get us to London <3 _

_Noora: Yes! Come!_

 *          *          * 

Isra gets Ely’s Facebook message around 20:30 and elects to ignore it for at least another hour because Ely just _grates_ on her all the time and he is _not taking a hint_.

 

 _Facebook Messenger  
_ _Tirsdag 11.10.16 @ 8:22  
_ _Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen _

_Ely: Hey :p_

_Ely: Is there going to be a party at yours on Saturday?_

_Isra: A party?_

_Ely: Yes I saw it on Instagram_

_Isra: Ah yeah, always a party_

_Ely: There’s a pregame at my place on Friday_

_Ely: Bring your boys and come_

*          *          * 

She’s in the courtyard on Wednesday and when she spots Vilde, she can’t help but jog to catch up to her.

“Vilde! Hey!” Vilde turns around and looks at Isra with surprised delight.

“Hi! What’s up?" 

Isra rocks on her heels. “I was just wondering…are there going to be any more _kosegruppa_ meetings?” She doesn’t particularly want to go, but if it’ll give her an occasion to see Evanna again, well… she’s willing to suffer through it.

Vilde’s beaming at her like Isra just offered to give her 100,000 kr. “How incredibly nice that you’re engaging! We won’t be having any more group meetings this week, but there’s a revue party next week. And we’ll be having a group pregame!” Vilde pauses for a moment, looking like she’s contemplating something. “Perhaps…you could host it?”

Isra blinks at her. “Uh, why?” 

Vilde’s expression falters. “Because my mom’s hosting a wine tasting party, and Eva’s house was completely trashed, and Sana’s parents are Muslim. But you could host it!”

“Um, maybe? I’d have to ask Eskild and Linn.”

“What up?” Jonas asks, coming up behind them, Mahdi and Magnus not far behind him. 

Vilde smiles at him. “Isra will be hosting a group pregame before the revue party next Friday! Maybe you guys would like to join?”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck are you hosting?” Magnus asks Isra as the guys descend into laughter. Isra rolls her eyes. 

Vilde frowns. “Why are you all laughing like that? Do you think the revue is stupid? I mean, the revue will lay the social foundation for you to have in school. If you don’t engage in anything, you’re missing out. It’s where classes and ages and grades and races and sexual orientation…” 

Isra zones out because she _really_ doesn’t feel like listening to Vilde’s opinions about unity when she notices Evanna walking across the courtyard.

Isra can’t help but stare at Evanna. She’s breathless. Evanna’s practically strutting across the courtyard casually like it’s _nothing_ when Isra’s feeling flustered and she’s standing at least _forty feet_ away from her. Really, it’s not even fair.

A few seconds after she starts staring, Evanna turns and looks at her. She watches Isra stare.

Isra’s captivated. Neither of them look away.

Evanna walks over towards some people Isra guesses she knows from revue, or they’re other third years. Isra’s never seen any of them before. Evanna moves and leans against a wall casually, still wearing her sunglasses even though she’s in the shade.

_(Isra doesn’t know what to make of it.)_

_(She doesn’t think she knows what to make of Evanna.)_

_(All she knows is she’s never felt this way about anyone else before.)_

Someone standing immediately in her line of sigh suddenly blocks Isra’s view. She looks up and nearly sighs in frustration. It’s Ely with some friends of his. _Great._  

“Did you get my messages?” 

Isra blinks up at him, and wonders when, if ever, he’s going to take a hint. “Oh, um. No.”

“Okay.” Ely says, nodding a bit to himself. “Well, it’s just we’re hosting a pregame.” He gestures to the people behind him, which Isra guesses is meant to the guys around him and some of the first years from the dance team. “We were wondering if you guys wanted to join.” 

Isra’s never been so uninterested in anything as she is uninterested in going to a pregame where she has to pretend to be interested in Ely again. “Oh, Friday, I don’t know-" 

“Isra’s an idiot. We’ll be there.” Mahdi cuts in, and Isra turns to glare at him.

“Okay. Cool! Okay.” Ely turns to Isra. “’l’ll text you."

Isra tries to give him a small smile, but it falls flat. “Okay.”

As soon as they get out of their range of hearing, Mahdi turns to her. “What’s up with you, are you a freaking lesbian or something?”

“What’s up?” Jonas asks, staring at her in confusion.

Isra shrugs. “I don’t know, I’m getting some crazy vibes from him." 

Mahdi throws a hand up. “Who the fuck cares if he’s psycho? Take one for the team, Isra.”

“What’s up with the first year chicks this year?” Vilde demands, and they all turn to look at her. Truth be told, Isra had sort of forgot she was there. “Where are they getting this self confidence from? Why do first year girls go after second year boys and invite them to pregames?! I mean, it’s not- are they complete noobs?! They’re not supposed to go after you.” 

Jonas blinks at Vilde in confusion. “What –what’s the problem with them doing so?”

Jonas, bless his soul, has never really understood what Isra likes to fondly refer to as “girl politics”. Granted, Isra really doesn’t either, but she at least has the sense to feign knowledge when the necessity is here. It’s probably what Jonas should be doing right now and it’s what Isra did in half of her conversations with Eva, back when they used to talk.

“The problem is that there’s a system. If the first year girls are going to sleep with third year boys, and if second year girls are also going to sleep with first year boys, then who are we going to sleep with?” 

“I mean-“ Magnus starts, and Isra immediately has to suppress a groan because _she knows where this is going_ , “I’d gladly volunteer if you want to fuck. Like…”

Vilde just stares at him in horrified disbelief. “Don’t be rude!” Without another word, she storms away.

Jonas laughs, clapping Magnus on the back. “You’re such an idiot, man.”

Isra sighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, Mags, you gotta learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

“What the fuck did she mean by that? Guys, is she playing me?”

Mahdi claps on Magnus’s back as they all head towards the buildings. “Buddy, pall. As usual, you’ve just managed to _completely_ play yourself. Congratulations." 

*          *          * 

_Fra Pappa (Torsdag 17:24:53)_

_I talked to your mother today. She says she hasn’t heard from you since you moved out._

_Fra Pappa (Torsdag 17:25:46)_

_She’s on meds now and is doing much better. Please consider seeing her._

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 18:49:13)_

_Aren’t you divorcing her? Why do you care?_

_Fra Pappa (Torsdag 18:52:29)_

_We’ve agreed to put our divorce agreement on hold indefinitely_

_Fra Pappa (Torsdag 18:52:17)_

_Your mother misses you_

_Fra Pappa (Torsdag 18:52:49)_

_You owe it to her to at least try_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 18:53:17)_

_Kind of rich that you’re the one saying I have to “try” when you’re the one who left and the reason things got so much worse in the first place_

*          *          * 

Isra can’t sleep.

It’s becoming more and more of an issue.

She had tried to fall asleep at 11, to no avail. It’s now nearly 1, and she’s ready to call it quits. She turns on the lamp by her bed, wincing at the harsh light, and grabs her laptop off the floor.

She flips it open, sees that she still has Mikaela’s interview with Evanna up. And, well, it couldn’t hurt to watch it again.

_(She can’t help but wonder who Mikaela is, and what she means to Evanna.)_

She watches it, nearly giggling every time Evanna brings up how _Sarah Palin could be considered a hot chick_ because it just reminds her of Sarah Palin’s “I can see Russia from my house!” comment.

Isra gets to the point where Evanna talks about her love of Baz Luhrmann when she pauses the video. She can swear that she’s heard the name before, attached to movies and TV shows, but she doesn’t know the specifics.

She does a quick Wikipedia search of him, and quickly discovers he has a _lot_ of film credits to his name, including some shows that just came out over the summer.

She reads about his trilogy of “great romances” – the ones she guess Evanna is referencing when she talks about the tragedy in all great love stories. 

She checks her clock. 1:01. It’s unlikely she’ll get back to sleep before 3. 

She thinks  _fuck it_ and goes into iTunes for the first time in probably a year and rents Romeo and Juliet.

She doesn’t turn on the subtitles because, though her English is good, it’s not Shakespearian-level good, but she read the book a few years ago that she remembers enough of the general gist about _love versus family hatred, individuals versus society,_ and _the inevitability of fate_ that she feels she probably doesn’t need them. 

 _(It’s not like she’s even watching the film because it’s probably one of Evanna’s favorites or anything.)_  

The first thing she notices is the oversaturated colors in the opening sequence. It looks like a Beastie Boys’ music video or something.

_(Isra hears “Talk Show Host” and sees the dramatic zoom in on Romeo and can’t help but think of Evanna in the courtyard.)_

_“Go girl. Seek happy nights to happy days.”_

She can’t help but be amused at Romeo taking ecstasy, can’t help but smile at Mercutio in drag. She watches Romeo and Juliet stare at each other though the fish tank, and she wonders what it must be like to have someone stare at you like that, like you’re the sole reason the sun shines in the morning. 

( _She wonders whether or not she might already know, but she pushes the thought away. She can’t afford to think like that.)_

She watches Romeo and Juliet run through hallways and stand under balconies and ignore the social constructs of the world and think of just the two of them. She watches the pool scene, with ["I’m Kissing You”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLgD8z9vSXY) playing in the background, and she wonders what that must feel like, to kiss someone you love and who loves you in return.

_(She wonders what it would feel like to kiss Evanna, and her heart aches at the thought that she will probably never know.)_

She watches Romeo and Juliet die, encompassed by grief in one another’s arms, and basked in warm candlelight surrounded by neon blue crosses.

_The main characters have to die, or else the love story won’t be epic._

Isra feels tears slipping down her face as the movie ends, because she’s spent enough time thinking about it over the past year that she knows that if there is a one great love of her life, it won’t be a guy, and she can’t see a reality where she’s out and people associate the name _Isra_ with the word _gay_ and all of the negative connotations that come with it.

 _(She feels sick at the thought, at all of the stares and hatred that would be directed her way if people knew. She can’t imagine the guys would stay friends with her if she came out, because who would want to? She thinks of her religious mother and her absent father and can’t help but wish she was straight so she wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that the only thing she will ever do is disappoint people.)_  

The end credits appear and Isra stares at the black screen of her laptop for a few seconds before she slams it slams it, lying on her back.

She goes to Facebook on her phone, types in _Evanna Bech Næsheim._ No results found.

She stares at her ceiling, thinking about Romeo and Juliet and the future she’ll probably never get to have until eventually, she succumbs to exhaustion.

*          *          *

 “ _Guys, I’m going to fuck a chick today!”_ Magnus proclaims Friday afternoon as they’re all walking away from school. Magnus runs in front of them in his excitement, slapping Jonas’s and Isra’s assess on his way. 

“Smack my ass again, see what happens, Fossbakken.” Isra warns him as Jonas laughs.

“A chick?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah, I’ll go down on a chick.”

“Oh you, Magnus I-don’t-know-what-a-clitoris-is Fossbakken, you’re going down on a chick?”

Magnus nods, still excited. “One chick, at least. You guys gotta help me.” 

“Yeah, we’re all goona sit next to you Mags, and we’ll just be like ‘okay, now over there’ and give you more advice like that.” Isra rolls her eyes at him.

Mahdi grins. “Yo, I’m super stoked." 

“Yeah, I’m stoked as fuck.” Jonas chimes in.

“Yeah.” Isra says, trying to sound excited but failing miserably.

“Yeah, what the fuck, you owe me drinks.” Jonas adds, tapping Isra as he talks.

“What?’

“Yeah, that party that Ine and Hedda had together. I gave you an entire six pack.”

Jonas is fucking with her. “Bullshit. Do you remember in May I gave you like, three beers at a party?”

“That was six months ago!" 

“So what?” She retorts.

Jonas raises an eyebrow at her. “But since May, at this one party, you didn’t have shit and I had a six pack. And so I gave you almost the entire fucking six-pack, so it went over what you’d already given me. So you owe me.” 

“Um, I call bullshit.”

“Nope, that’s true.” Mahdi chimes in, because the universe is against Isra.

Isra stares at him in indignation. “Why are you saying it’s true!? You weren’t even fucking there?!”

Jonas points at Mahdi. “No, but he knows! He gets it.”

Isra rolls her eyes as they all come to the crosswalk where they all part ways. “Okay, I’ll fix it. I get Eskild to buy or something. Talk to you later, my dudes, it’s been real.” She says, hugging each of them goodbye.

“Send us a message though about when they should be there!” Jonas calls as Isra walks over to the tram stop.

She pulls out her phone as she waits for the bus to come.

 

_Til Eskild (Fredag 3:37:14)_

_Are you home and can you buy me beer?_

 

The bus arrives and she gets on, quickly grabbing one of the poles and not bothering to look around as she watched Eskild type out his message.

 

_Fra Eskild (Fredag 3:37:43)_

_Sorry, I work until 21_

 

 _Fuck._ There goes her solid plan at getting beer. 

“Hey.” A familiar voice says from beside her, and Isra looks up sharply. She knows that voice.

Evanna is smiling down at her expectantly, and Isra forgets how to speak for a second. 

“Hi!” Isra responds, her voice an octave higher than normal.

If Evanna notices, she decides to at least have the decency to not call her out on it. “On your way home?” 

Isra nods, not sure if she can trust her voice anymore. She swallows and responds. “You too?”

Isra looks down at her phone as it buzzes. Another fucking text from her mother.

 

_Fra Mamma (Fredag 3:39:57)_

_2 Then I saw another angel COMING UP FROM THE EAST, HAVING THE SEAL OF THE LIVING gOD. hE CALLED OUT IN A LOUDVOICE TO THE four angels WHO HABEEN given power to harm the land and the sea: 3 “Do not harmthe land or thesea or the trees untilwe put a seal onmthe foreheads of the servants of ourGod.”_

 

Isra looks up and makes eye contact with Evanna, who has clearly been staring at her. Isra ducks her head quickly, looking down at the floor. She’s not really used to people staring at her like Evanna does.

Evanna chuckles a little bit. “Awesome conversation, though.”

Any skill that Isra has _ever_ had with guys clearly does not apply to girls, because Isra can’t remember ever feeling this flustered and unable to speak. She can barely look Evanna in the eye without blushing.

Some announcement about their next stop is made overhead and Isra has an idea. 

“Hey, you’re – you’re 18, right?” She stumbles out.

Evanna appears to light up, nodding eagerly. Isra pauses, because she doesn’t want Evanna to think that Isra’s just using her but she also _really_ needs to get them beer. “Could you possibly buy me some beer?” 

Evanna nods easily. “Sure. The next stop is mine.”

The two of them get off, and Isra waits outside playing _Solitaire_ on her phone while Evanna heads into the grocery store to buy alcohol.

Evanna comes out a few seconds later and walks straight past Isra. “I managed to forget my ID. I need to go home and get it. Join me.” 

Isra’s frozen to the spot for a second as she comprehends that. _Did Evanna just invite me back to her place?_  

She realizes she still hasn’t moved a second later, and Evanna turns around and gives her an amused look, and she hurries to catch up.

“I just live around the block.” She says once Isra has finally caught up.

They head upstairs to an apartment much like Isra’s, except for the fact that Evanna’s is much larger. 

“Hello?” Evanna calls out as she unlocks the door, toeing off her shoes. Isra does the same. “Awesome.” 

Evanna walks straight through to a room that must be hers, and Isra follows. 

Evanna, Isra must admit, has a _really_ cool room set up for such a small space. Evanna’s lofted her bed, and under it she’s got a couch and a TV set up. As Evanna climbs up to her bed to presumably search for her ID, Isra looks around some more. 

Evanna’s got numerous photos of her and other people hung up around the room (including one of her and four other people, three of which just _have_ to be her siblings based on their striking similarity, and she files that information away for later. She’s hung up an abundance of posters, from one with some guy named _Nas_ on it and one from the musical _RENT_ , which Isra’s never seen but Eskild keeps trying to make her watch. 

“I don’t get where I might have put this.” Evanna mutters to herself from up on her bed.

Isra notes the guitar and base on the wall and thumbs the guitar’s strings. “Do you play?”

“Huh?” Evanna looks for a second to clarify what Isra is talking about. “Oh. A little bit. I can do chords and shit, but the guitars are mainly my sister’s.”

Isra nods, and the looks at the closet door, which is plastered with drawings. “Did you draw these?” She looks up suddenly. “Sorry if I’m prying.”

“You’re fine.” Evanna says, climbing down from her bed. “And yeah. All the drawings are mine.”

Isra peers at some of them closer. “They’re all really good.” 

Evanna smiles at that as she moves to search the couch. “Really?” 

Isra nods. “Mhm. They’re incredible.” 

“Thanks.” Evanna says, unable to hid her surprise. “Found it!” She says.

“Oh, did you find your ID?” Isra asks, turning around.

“Nope.” Evanna says, matter-of-fact. She holds up a joint. “I found something better.”

Isra grins. “Well then, what are we waiting for?" 

Evanna plugs her phone into a speaker and starts to play music, and digs a lighter out of her drawer, offering the items off the Isra.

 

[ _“I think I started somethin', I got what I wanted_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMfPJT4XjAI)

[ _Did didn't I can't feel nothin', superhuman_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMfPJT4XjAI)

[ _Even when I'm fuckin' Viagra poppin', every single record autotunin'_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMfPJT4XjAI)

[ _Zero emotion, muted emotion, pitch corrected, computed emotion_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMfPJT4XjAI)

[ _I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMfPJT4XjAI)

 

“Frank Ocean?” Isra asks, taking a seat on the vacant windowsill. Evanna moves some books off of the windowsill and takes a seat.

“Of course. Great rapper, great guy. What's not to like?”

Isra nods in affirmation. Evanna stares at Isra as she lights up the joint. “Can I ask you a question?” She asks.

Isra nods, taking a drag. “Sure.”

“Why _kosegruppa_?”

Isra shrugs, taking the joint from Evanna. “I mean – I fucked up accidentally, left some weed at a friend’s house. Sana – the girl in the hijab, she’s great, I don’t think she likes me though – hid it from the police, and she said in order for me to get it back, all of my friends and I had to go to the meeting.”

“All the guys you hang out with at school? Did they come?”

Isra shakes her head, trying not to overthink how Evanna spends enough time watching her at school to know the guys she hangs out with. “No, they all made excuses, the fuckers. So I just went by myself.”

“Did you ever get the drugs back?” Evanna asks, staring at Isra.

Isra breaks their gaze and stares at the window. “Yeah, she gave it back to me in biology. Teacher almost caught us and everything.”  
  
Evanna laughs at that, and it’s still quickly becoming one of Isra’s favorite sounds. _She wants to hear Evanna laugh more._ “Things are always more exciting with a little bit of risk.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Isra took another hit, feeling the high start to set in. “What about you? Why _kosegruppa_?”

Evanna quirks an eyebrow at her. “Why not? I’m new to Nissen. What better way to meet people than revue?”

Isra stares at her for a second. “So why did you transfer?”

Evanna looks out the window. “Couldn’t be at Bakka anymore. Missed too much school.”

“Where were you today? When you were on the tram? You didn’t just come from school. Unless you got out early.”

Evanna shrugs and doesn’t offer any further response.

“So you – you’ve been here? You haven’t been away?”  
  
Evanna shakes her head. “I just left early school early, I don’t know.” She’s laughing again. “Like, is that okay?” 

Isra can’t help but laugh in response. “You haven’t gotten with the system, I don’t fucking know. I skipped a few classes here and there, but…” 

“-What’s the limit?”

Isra can’t help but crack a grin. “The limit’s ten percent. But if the principle likes you, you get fifteen.”

Evanna quirks an eyebrow again. “Are you serious?” 

Isra nods. “Yeah. I don’t think the principle likes me though.” The principle _definitely_ doesn’t like her. She spends too much time in there because of her idiot friends.

“Okay, okay I see. What do you listen too?” Isra and Evanna make eye contact again, and Isra is nearly breathless at the startling shade of blue her eyes are that she can’t formulate a good response.

“-Uh, listen to?”

Evanna can clearly tell Isra’s flustered because she’s giggling again. “Yeah, if you listen to music.” Isra holds out the joint to Evanna.

“I’m a really big fan of like, NWA and Kanye and Nicki Minaj, stuff like that.”

Evanna nods. “A rap kind of girl. I’m a fan. So is that the kind of music you listen to before school to get hype?”

Isra grins at that description. “It’s like, the kind of music you listen to when you want to walk around and feel cool. Or badass." 

“Have you listened to Nas? Right up your alley.”

“Nas?” Isra’s 90% sure she’s never heard of Nas in her life. “Are you asking if I’ve listened to it?”  
  
“Are you telling me you haven’t checked it out?”

“I’ve listened to it a little.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.” 

“Fuck.” Isra’s definitely never heard of Nas. “I’ve listened to it.”

Evanna smiles at her. “We’ll listen to him later. I’m sure enough that he’ll come up on this playlist,” she gestures towards the speaker, “eventually." 

They sit there talking for a while, longer than Isra’s spent with a lot of people recently. Idk add more to this paragraph

A song comes on, and Evanna holds a hand up suddenly. “Do you hear that?”

“The song?”

“The, Isra, is _Nas.”_

[ _“Imagine smoking weed in the streets without cops harassin'_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

[ _Imagine going to court with no trial_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

[ _Lifestyle cruising blue behind my waters_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

[ _No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

[ _Days are shorter, nights are colder_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

[ _Feeling like life is over, these snakes strike like a cobra…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW55FRXlPEs)

Isra nods along. “This is good shit.”

“The very best. Better than Nicki Minaj.”

“Don’t shit on Nicki. Best female rapper of our time.”

Evanna laughs, standing up off of the ledge. “Come get food with me.”

Isra stands up, quirking an eyebrow at Evanna. “Lead the way.”

Isra follows Evanna into the kitchen and takes a seat on the counter. She looks around the kitchen. It’s not really…what she expected.

Everything is organized fairly neatly in the tight space. There’s a fridge covered in magnets, photos, and other mementos and a doorway leading to what Isra guesses must be other rooms near it.

“That’s some sweaty cheese.” Isra comments, looking at the cheese out on the counter.

“Yeah, I know. I managed to leave it out when I left for school today. So it’s been lying out, almost melting.   Has it happened to you before?”

“Yeah, I forget about it a lot.”

“So it’s happened to you, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. That’s a first world problem.”

A notification goes off on Isra’s phone, and she elects to ignore it. 

“Cheese and keys.” Isra says as another notification sounds on her phone.

Six more notifications sound immediately follow that one.

“Beer?” Evanna asks, moving towards the fridge. Isra nods in affirmation, pulling out her phone.

All of her messages are from “Catfucker and Friends”, so she wastes no time ignoring them and turning her phone on silent.

“Cheers,” Evanna says, holding the beer out to her.

They make some truly disgusting cheese toasties (and Evanna and Isra can’t stop smiling the entire time) and Isra’s no expert in flirting with girls but she’s _sure_ she’s picking up something from Evanna. Either way, she’s not trying to cut their time shorter than she has to. 

She texts Jonas, a quick _sorry, Ely and his friends cancelled the pregame tonight so I’m just gonna stay home_ and she texts Ely a quick _Sorry we’d forgotten we had some other things going on but we’ll join next time!,_ and she turns her phone on silent.

“You know, this cheese toastie is so bad it’s almost good.” Evanna says, mulling over the spices.

“No, it’s somehow so bad that it got…even worse." 

“Uh, excuse me, _you_ were the one who wanted us to put on all those spies!” 

“Well, it’s really important to have a lot of cardamom.” 

“Ah, that’s the trick?”

“Cardamom! I’m telling you.”

“For it to taste good?”

Isra laughs. “Most definitely. Have you heard the rumors about my rapping?” 

“Oh yeah, most definitely.” 

“No one does Nicki’s ‘Monster’ verse like I do.” 

“Not even Nicki?”

“Give me a beat, Bech Næsheim.”

They sit there, fucking around for a few minutes, both of them nearly dying from laughter when suddenly the doorbell buzzes, and Isra feels a sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought that her and Evanna’s alone time might be over.

“Aw fuck, what time is it?” Evanna asks, standing up.

Isra checks her phone quickly. “19:50.”

“I invited some friends to a pregame. You’re welcome to stay. I’ve got lots of beer.” 

Isra waits a second, thinking. _What is she even doing here? What is she doing with Evanna? What do they think is going to happen from this?_

Isra stands up, making her way into the hallway.

“Well, introduce yourselves.” Evanna says, moving past those already in the room. 

A boy and a girl introduce themselves to Isra, but she forgets their names almost the second they tell her them.

“And this is Sondre, my boyfriend.” Evanna says, and Isra freezes. Evanna’s grinning at a boy with short blonde hair who’s got an arm wrapped around her. He stands an inch or two taller than Isra, and he’s looking at her like she hung the star in the sky and Isra feels sick because _of course Evanna’s got a boyfriend, why wouldn’t she?_

Evanna and Sondre descend into a conversation about Sondre’s sales job or something, Isra isn’t paying attention, she can’t think, can’t focus.

_And this is Sondre, my boyfriend._

Her heart feels tight in her chest and she can feel a lump forming in her throat. 

She doesn’t know what to do. She wants to spend more time with Evanna but she doesn’t think she can stay here with Evanna and Sondre, and these friends aren’t hers, really, they’re Evanna’s friends. She’s out of place. And she feels stupid for thinking that anything else could have happened. 

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she spares it barely a second of her attention. Mahdi’s talked to Ely, the guys _know_ she’s lying, and she’s doing a great job at fucking everything up today. 

She’s never felt so humiliated, because why had she ever thought that Evanna could possibly have any romantic interest in _her?_

 _(She makes her leave a few minutes later, making excuses about places she has to be even though she cancelled all of her plans to be_ here _. To their credit, Evanna’s friends ask her to stay, tell her she seems like a fun person to be around, but Isra knows what a pity invite sounds like and she knows that she’s not interested.)_

 _(Isra can’t meet Evanna’s eye as she grabs her coat because she knows that Evanna knew her intentions. Isra leaves her beanie there in her haste, but she just chalks it up as a loss and doesn’t bother going back for it.)_

_(She can’t help but blame herself for being dumb enough to think Evanna could ever like her like that.)_

She doesn’t really breathe until she’s back, sitting on the bus. All her notifications are turned off. Jonas has called her four times but she’s sent every time to voice mail and she hasn’t bothered to listen to the two that he left for her.

 _And this is Sondre, my boyfriend._  

She puts in her headphones, opens Spotify on her phone and elects to ignore that she can’t afford to go over on data this month. She has too much time left before she gets home and doesn’t feel like thinking because she’s too fucking upset and she doesn’t want to dwell on her shitty feelings or Evanna’s shitty boyfriend or Evanna.

 

[ _“…And I am, whatever you say I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _In the paper, the news everyday I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _Radio won't even play my jam_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _'Cause I am, whatever you say I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _In the paper, the news everyday I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

[ _I don't know, it's just the way I am…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWmG0ZsUAag)

_(It was stupid for Isra to ever even think that she had a shot.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning discriptions  
> 1\. Idk there is so much alcohol and drugs. Lots of mentions of binge drinking  
> 2.  
> 3\. There’s a situation referenced at dinner with Isra’s dad where her mom tried to throw a plate at Isra’s head because she was convinced that Isra had tried to poison her
> 
> There’s an outtake of the scene described at the beginning where Isra hooks up with Sara. It was originally in here but I took it out because I felt it didn’t do a proper job of moving the story along. If I ever get more time, I’ll tweak it and upload it. 
> 
> I did the October 11th “Kollektivet” translation myself so I’m sorry that it’s at least 60% incorrect. It was a group effort between me, a Norwegian online dictionary, and Google Translate and it took me an absurd amount of time. 
> 
> Munchies is a place located around Grünnerløkka where the Insta was posted to Isak’s account
> 
>  
> 
> Song List:  
> 1\. Death With Dignity – Sufjan Stevens (Title)  
> 2\. Dyrene – Silja Sol (Noora’s going away party, s/o Spotify Norway for this one)  
> 3\. The Right Song – Tiësto & Oliver Heldens feat. Natalie La Rose (Bathtub Bong)  
> 4\. Sound of da Police – KRS One (Police song – in the show, this song was “Fuck Tha Police”, but I had thought it was an end credits song and used it in the last chapter)  
> 5\. Miracle Mile – Cold War Kids (Burger shop song)  
> 6\. Gotta Get Away – The Black Keys (Song with Eskild in Isra’s room)  
> 7\. I'm Kissing You - Des'ree (watching Romeo & Juliet  
> 8\. Novocane – Frank Ocean (song in Evanna’s room)  
> 9\. If I Ruled the World – Nas feat. Lauryn Hill  
> 10\. The Way I Am - Eminem
> 
> fam. please kudos/comment. there are probably typos and shit but i've reread this 3 times in the past 24 hours and I physically can't have this chapter in my sole possession anymore. I'm also back at school so updates will probably be more irregular. what are these people who have no work during syllabus week.
> 
> i read all your comments and they make my day!!!! they honestly don't even have to be about the story just tell me about your lives or tell me music you're listening to I just like to hear things from people. 
> 
> also come find me on tumblr i'm lonely http://frutescence.tumblr.com


	8. Sometimes I Can't Believe It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey fam. Longer explanation at the bottom.
> 
> For now, this chapter just covers 3x03. You guys asked to change things up, and you guys were right. I listened
> 
> CW for fire/discussion of burning, mild panic attacks

Isra gets off at her stop and walks in a haze to the apartment. She ignores Eskild’s comments from the living room and heads straight back for her room.

She pulls off her jacket and throws it onto the floor before falling back onto her bed and pressing her hands into her eyes. She fights a losing battle with herself in an effort not to cry.

Her phone is ringing from her coat pocket and it’s annoying. She reaches down and turns it off before lying back down again, not bothering to check who’s calling or texting because she can’t find the will to care right now.

She doesn’t know how long she lies there thinking about Evanna and how severly she’d fucked up. All she knows is that by the time she looks back up, her room has gone dark and that several hours had probably already passed.

She grabs her laptop from the ground and has made her way through three and a half movies ( _Freaky Friday, School of Rock, Matilda, and half of Legally Blonde)_ before she remembers her phone on the floor that she’d turned off in a fit of frustration.

Isra sighs a little bit and with a glace at the clock on her cluttered nightstand ( _4:27 in the morning)_ she rummages around in her jacket pocket and turns her phone on.

She instantly receives notification for over a dozen texts and Facebook messages and elects to ignore most of them. 

She’s got a text from her father (which she deletes), a text form her mother (which she ignores) and a handful of texts sent to her from Jonas.

 

_Til Isra (Fredag 19:23:17)_

_Why are you lying about the pregame?_

_Til Isra (Fredag 19:23:58)_

_It’s fine if you didn’t want to go you could have just told us_

_Til Isra (Fredag 19:47:16)_

_What’s up? You’ve been acting kind of strange lately_

_Til Isra (Fredag 20:37:39)_

_If the guys did or said something again you can let me know and I’ll talk to them_

_Til Isra (Fredag 22:11:21)_

_Is it Ely? I thought you were into him_

_Til Isra (Lørdag 00:03:16)_

_Why aren’t you responding?_

_Til Isra (Lørdag 01:57:26)_

_Text me when you get this so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere_

_Til Isra (Lørdag 02:02:19)_

_I’m going 2 sleep, text/call me back_

 

_(She didn’t want to worry people, she just needed some space.)_

Isra felt like shit for fucking over her friends for someone who’d never even like her back, and she feels the shame catch in her throat again and she can feel the resurgence of tears pricking at her eyes.

_Til Jonas (Lørdag 04:30:59)_

_Sorry to piss you guys off, some family shit came up. My phone’s been off for a few hours. Didn’t read this until now._

_Til Jonas (Lørdag 04:31:05)_

_You don’t have to worry so much_

 

Isra plugs her phone into the charger on her nightstand, resolving to try and get some sleep.

She spends the next four hours trying to fall asleep to no avail and gives up around 8:30. No one else in the apartment is up yet, so decides to use this time to monopolize the bathroom.

She spends half her time leaning against the wall in thought. She’s past the point of crying, just feels upset and embarrassed that she had ditched her friends for a _straight girl_ of all people.

_(Her mother’s words ring in her head, flashing back to the last time they talked or watched a movie together, Marianne’s harsh criticism of queer behavior. “I don’t understand how anyone could condone that sort of behavior. It’s grossly inappropriate to invite sin like that.”)_

_(She hasn’t seen her mother since she moved out and tries to shove down the part of her that misses her and years for her approval even though she knows she’ll never get it.)_

_(They’ve got a fucked up relationship.)_

When she comes out of the shower, she’s got a new message on her phone.

 

_Til Isra (9:01:13)_

_Are you sure things are fine?_

_Til Jonas (9:28:21)_

_V chill, don’t worry_

*          *          *

  

Isra’s sitting on her bed fucking around on the internet when her phone starts buzzing around noon.

 

_Fra Mona (International) (Lørdag 11:37:12)_

_Your parents’s divorce is still on hold under Terje’s wishes and he’s calling it a “long term separation”. Since you’re already living out of the house, they’re thinking about waiting until you come of age so they don’t have to debate custody rights._

_Fra Mona (International) (Lørdag 11:38:23)_

_I’ve also talked w your grandparents and uncle. One of us will be checking in on her occasionally. I don’t know how involved your father intends to be, because that would require him to actually do something for once, but we’re trying to hire at least a part-time live in caregiver. It’s hard because there’s not a lot of money right now, but worse comes to worst she’ll move in w your grandparents._

_Fra Mona (International) (Lørdag 11:41:21)_

_It was shitty of us to try and leave this all to you, because I know I would never want that to happen to my kids and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. Elsker deg_  

Isra blinks at the texts, has to read through them a couple of times before she fully registers what they’re saying.

And really, fuck her extended family for guilt tripping her like this.

_Facebook Messenger_

_10.15.16 @ 12:03_

_“Catfucker and Friends_

_Jonas: hang later ??_

_Mahdi: yes!_

_Magnus: busy w fam until 4, can still hang if after then_

 

Isra sighs. She doesn’t particularly feel like hanging out with anyone today, not after the shitshow that was yesterday, but she knows she needs to start fixing things with her friends and ignoring them and blowing them off isn’t helping her case.

 

_Isra: I’m around_

_Mahdi: Are you?? Or are you just gonna bail like usual?_

_Isra: chill_

_Jonas: courts @ like 13:30?_

_Mahdi: Jonas let me know when you’re leaving and I’ll meet you_

_Jonas: okay cool_

_Magnus: let me know if you guys are still chilling @ like ~16 or so_

_Jonas: will do_

_Isra: cool_

_Mahdi: see you fuckers then_

Isra’s at the courts at 13:30, watching some _ungdomsskolers_ play basketball poorly and she bothers to finally check her notifications from last night.

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Fredag 10.14.16 @ 21:53_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Hi. I just wanted to say that I talked w some of your friends and know that you didn’t have any other plans. If you’re not interested that’s okay, but you don’t need to be such a tease and say that you’ll come to a pregame when you don’ actually t._

_Fredag (22:01) It’s pretty fucked up not to answer_

_Fredag (22:18) Can you at least answer?_

_Fredag (22:30) Isra! You didn't seem like this kind of girl when we met_

She debates responding and informing Ely _why_ he doesn’t get to just get away with calling her “a tease” as if she owed him anything in the first place, but decides against it. She figures that, if nothing else, a boyfriend could help convince her friends to forgive her for ditching them all the time.

“Hey, traitor.” A voice calls from down the court, and Isra rolls her eyes.

“Traitor? Fuck you Mahdi.”

“Hey, Is.” Jonas is wearing his trademark beanie-and-backpack look. Classic hipster. Mahdi slides next to her on the bench. 

“That’s really shitty of you, though. Just betraying us.” Mahdi doesn’t look happy, and Isra represses a sigh. “What was that about? We had an opportunity – and so did you, so don’t even start out, and then you just _killed it?”_

Isra goes uncomfortable instantly in her seat. “Yeah, sorry about that. But, uh…yeah. I had some family shit come up. It was stressful. Whatever. Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand at him, attempting to change the subject. 

“ _Stress?_ Stress? What do you mean stress?” Mahdi’s confused.

“Yeah.” Jonas asks, turning to look at her slowly. She can’t meet their eyes, stares instead at the two kids playing basketball. 

The one standing closest to Isra misses a three-point shot “I’ll fix us a new pregame, talk with Ely about next week.”

“Yeah, but what do you mean about stress?” Jonas says, in the tone of voice where he makes it clear that he’s going to keep pressing until she tells him _something_ , and Isra mentally braces herself.

_(Isra wonders when they got to this point, when she stopped telling Jonas everything.)_

_(Oh, right. Probably around the time she realized she had a thing for Eva and decided to break up her and Jonas.)_

_(Maybe it’ll be easier, if she ever comes out to him and they’re already distant. If he doesn’t want to associate with Isra once he knows she’s gay, then it’ll be easier if they’re already barely speaking.)_

“Just, uh,” she pauses to cough for a second, “Just some stuff with my mom, okay? But it’s fine now.”

_(It’s a low blow, she knows it, especially to Jonas of all people and considering she hasn’t seen her mother since she moved out, but she can’t tell them about Evanna. She just… she’s not ready for that.)_

_(She used to think that she’d die in the closet, if she even lived that long with her fucked up life. Live her life, maybe find a man, marry him, have children, do everything that, by all standards, she’s_ supposed _to do, but she’s not so sure about that anymore.)_

_(Sometimes, she’s not sure how much longer she can stay in the closet. Sometimes, she’s not sure that she’ll ever make it far enough to come out.)_

If Jonas had had any semblance of happiness on his face beforehand, it was gone now.

“With your mom?” Mahdi nearly laughs, and Isra rembmers that, despite their years of friendship, she had never actually _told_ Mahdi about her mother, not really. “What’s up with her?”

It strikes Isra that Mahdi probably thinks that she moved out for her own benefit and not out of necessity and that he doesn't actually even know  _why._

“She’s stressed out.”

 _“Stressed out?”_ Mahdi asks, disbelieving. “My mom’s been stressed out since I came into this world up until this very day, and will probably ocntinue to be stressed until the day she dies. What do you mean, _stress?”_

( _She doesn’t see the warning look that Jonas gives Mahdi that basically screams for Mahdi to drop the subject and makes Mahdi fall silent, looking between Isra and Jonas.)_

“How is she?” Jonas asks after a moment. 

It’s uncomfortable and unfamiliar, this silence between them, and Isra wonders when exactly she started to lose her best friend. 

 _(Was it Isra’s crush on Eva? Or something earlier? All she knows is that this distance is aching and unfamiliar and it_ hurts _because besides the Eva thing, she’d never lied to Jonas, not really. And suddenly she knows she’s hiding this large part of herself and it feels horrible.)_

“She’s okay.” She asks, staring at the concrete. “Been worse.”

Silence hangs in the air between them. 

“Just fix us a new pregame with Ely and their squad, alright?” Mahdi laughs, hitting her lightly on the shoulder. “He's a model, he hangs with all those hot girls. Case closed. Not so sure why he’s going for you when he’s ot all those hot dancer chick friends, but to each their own.”

And just like that, the discomfort and tension from earlier is gone.

“Ca-ca-case closed.” Jonas jokes, trying to make iit sound like he’s scratching a record.

“Case closed.” Isra says, and feels a pang in her chest.

_(She can’t have both Evanna and her friends, and she’s glad that this is the alternative she’s got.)_

_(She doesn’t stop to think about how despite that, Evanna had still been her first choice. She can’t.)_

They linger around the basketball court for a while longer before Mahdi proclaims that he’s hungry and the three of them meander their way to the nearest kebab place. 

Isra doesn’t get anything, claiming she left her wallet at home _(even though the real answer is that she can’t get anything because she doesn’t have any money.)_

They hang around the kebab place when all their phones sound simultaneously.

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_10.15.16 @ 15:49_

_“Catfucker and Friends”_

_Magnus: u guys still hanging?_

 

“What do we say?” Jonas asks, picking up one of his few remaining fries and putting it in his mouth.

Mahdi shrugs. “How much longer do we want to be here?”

A text message banner from her mother pops up.

 

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 15:49:59)_

_“The LORDis my strength and myEDefense ; he=2has become myasalvation. HEIS my God, and I WILL PRAISE HIM!!!!!!!!, my father’s God, and Iwill exalthim.!!!!_

 

“Uh, we can move to mine if you want.” Isra offers up, looking back up to her friends. 

They shrug. “You sure?” Jonas asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mahdi goes to say something but Jonas cuts him off. “You just have roommates.” 

Isra shrugs, standing up. “They’re fine. Linn stays in her room and Eskild has guys over so often that.

They walked away from the baseketball court leisurly, Isra tucking her hands into her jacket pockets.

“IS it weird?” Mahdi asks after a few seconds. “Eskild bring guys back?

Isra turns to him, tries to fake nonchalance as she stares straight ahead. “Why would it be weird?” Fuck, does Mahdi have an issue with gay people?

Mahdi shrugs. “I don’t know. Like, those walls are thin. Whenever we’re in your room, we can always hear whoever’s in the kitchen, you know? And like, Eskild’s room is next to yours, so you must hear him all the time.”

Isra releases a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “It’s not- he’s relaly not that loud, so it’s not really an issue.”

They end up staying at hers for a few hours, watchint TV and playing FIFA (even though she hates it). Magnus comes and joins them once he’s done with his family, and for the first few weeks, everything is starting to feel _right_ again.

_(She should have realized that things were going so well that they could only ever get worse.)_

*          *          * 

It’s 3:03. Isra has to be at school in 5 hours. And as usual, she can’t sleep. 

She’s spent the past five hours trying to fall asleep by sheer force of will if nothing else, but nothing’s working. She thinks that at this point she’s memorized the exact locations of all the cracks in her ceiling.

Her phone sounds loudly beside her, and she reaches over to grab her phone off of her bedside table.

 

_Fra Mamma (Mandag 3:03:52)_

_But you were washed!!!, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God_

Isra locks her phone, holding it loosely in her hand and just lying there for a moment. 

_(She doesn’t even feel sad or scared the way she used to, whenever her mom would bring up religion. She’s more apathetic than anything else now.)_

Then, Isra chalks sleep up as a lost cause. She pulls her laptop up off the floor, quickly shuffling her pillows and sitting up so she can comfortably lean against the wall.

She turns on Spotify, quietly enough that it won’t wake up anyone else. Isra absentmindedly checks Facebook for a moment, scrolling past NRK posts and Googles _how to know if you’re a lesbian_

She gets linked to some [shitty WikiHow article](http://www.wikihow.com/Know-If-You-Are-a-Lesbian)  and some other articles that don’t help before she ends up on some random quiz.

As the song she was listening to ends and a new one starts playing, she thinks _fuck it_. It’s already 3 AM. What does she have to lose?

[ _“They say, ‘Stay in your lane, boy, lane, boy’_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dAL9ztYRqQ)

[ _But we go where we want to_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dAL9ztYRqQ)

[ _They think this thing is a highway, highway_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dAL9ztYRqQ)

[ _But will they be alive tomorrow?...”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dAL9ztYRqQ)

Isra realizes quickly that she doesn’t really…understand a lot of the questions.

 Or particularly like them.

 

_1\. Have you ever had a sexual experiance with the same sex?_   
_a) Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! No!_   
_b) Just at a party after a few drinks. It was pretty funny._   
_c) Yes and I really enjoyed it!_   
_d) All of my sexual experiances have been with the same sex._   
_e) Most of my sexual experiances have been with the same sex._   
_f) No and I wouldn't want to._   
_g) No but I want to have sexual experiances with the same sex._

_2\. How many plaid shirts do you own?_   
_a) What’s plaid?_   
_b) 0-1_   
_c) 2-3_   
_d) 4-5_   
_e) 6+_   
_f) MY ENTIRE CLOSET CONSISTS SOLELY OF PLAID_

_(What does her plaid preference have to do with anything?)_

  
_3\. What’s your ideal career?_   
_a) P.E. Teacher_   
_b) Doctor_   
_c) Softball player_   
_d) Teacher_   
_e) Musician_   
_f) Political_

_4\. How do you feel about your father?_

_a) FUCK HIM HE’S THE WORST_   
_b) He’s fine, we’re not as close as we used to be_   
_c) He’s dead_   
_d) We’ve had a lot of distance between us recently, but I’m hoping to remedy that someday._   
_e) Great! We have a good relationship_   
_f) Fantastic! I see him at least once a week._

  _(What does her sexual orientation have anything to do with her relationship to her father?)_

The questions continue in much the same fashion. _How long until you move in with someone? Where would you rater be, at pride, the gym, or a movie theater?_

She hits submit with her final question, and receives the answer she’s been waiting for at last. 

Kind of. She receives _an_ answer.

 

_Congrats! You are 40% lesbian. You’ll probably stay in the closet your whole life, and when your husband discovers you having sex with the girl he’s secretly having an affair with, he’ll be too turned on to pay you any specific attention or be angry! Hell, he’ll probably ask to join in._

What the fuck does _that even mean?_

_(She knows what it means. She knows what taking the quiz in the first place even means.)_

_(But she can’t accept it. Not yet. Not without trying to change and be_ normal _for once.)_

_A fucking lunchtime conversation with Eva last year. "If you have to Google something, you already know it's true."_

The song on her Spotify changes, and she spends the whole song lying on her back, staring at her ceiling and trying to ignore the tears she now feels pricking at her eyes.

  _(“You’ll probably stay in the closet your whole life.”)_

_(She used to think she would, too. She doesn't know anymore.)_

 

[“ _Hail to those who have come from the sunlight that surrounds you_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

[ _Pray for those who have gone from the sunlight that surrounds you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

[ _Hail to whatever you found in the sunlight that surrounds you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

[ _Pretend all the good things are for you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

[ _Pretend all the good things are for me too_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

[ _And the weather changes not halfway between your house and mine”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbfmwKM2zFg)

The song switches again, this time to a much more upbeat _Panic! At the Disco_ song that she hasn’t heard in months.

And hesitantly, she opens Google Chrome and stares at the blinking cursor in the URL box and after staring at it for a few seconds, types in _“how to get turned on by guys if you are a lesbian”_ and hits enter.

_(And she knows she can’t deny it, not when it’s 3 AM and typed out there.)_

_(Her name is Isra Valtersen and she is a lesbian.)_

[ _“We'll stay drunk, we'll stay tan, let the love remain_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooEv1cH97HA)

[ _And I swear that I'll always paint you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooEv1cH97HA)

[ _Golden days, golden days_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooEv1cH97HA)

[ _Golden days, golden days”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooEv1cH97HA)

The results aren’t impressive. A lot of it is just articles aimed at helping straight men “seduce” lesbians which is ultimately not helpful (and morally wrong) but also better than nothing.

She ends up on some random UK forum post that effectively asks the same question. 

The top comment reads “ _I get super drunk and focus on what I find attractive about the guy.”_

Isra thinks on that for a second, and thinks about Ely. He’s got long hair. That’s a plus. His butt is kind of nice. Plus. He has pretty eyes, as much as she hates to admit it. 

She groans and rolls over, shutting her laptop and tossing it on the ground before reaching over to turn off her desk lamp and figuring it’s worth her time to try and at least get _some_ sleep before school in five hours. 

_(Despite her best efforts, she falls asleep thinking of golden hair and a certain tall girl with a boyfriend and hates herself for it.)_

*          *          * 

 _Fuck_ her life, _fuck_ her shitty locker that always insists on making her late to class, and _fuck_ her biology teacher for never wearing a bra because he retinas will definitely never recover at this point.

“Hi!” Isra glances over and sees Vilde standing in front of her, looking gorgeous and staring at her expectantly.

“Can you hold these for a second?” Isra doesn’t even wait for a response before depositing all of her books into Vilde’s arms.

“Isra, I was going to ask you, because I’m going to send the invites, but can we have the pregame at yours a bit earlier?”

Isra bangs her hand against her locker and nearly groans when the locker doesn’t budge. “Uh, no, sorry Vilde – I actually don’t really think I can host a pregame right now, there’s a lot going on-“

Vilde’s face visibly falls. “Why not?”

Isra stares at her for a second before turning back to her locker. “Because, I, uh. I can’t. I live with other people and they aren’t interested in hosting a pregame.

“But I talked to Eskild and he said it was completely fine.” And Isra can’t help but swear interally because _of course she forgot that Vilde and Eskild were friends because Vilde and Noora are friends._

“Of course he’s okay with it. But I talked to Linn and she doesn’t want to host a pregame.” Isra pulls out her bank card and presses it into her locker slot trying to jimmy open the lock. She’s ultimately successful at unlocking the door and she can’t help but breath a sigh of relief.

She rummages through the piles of trash as she pulls out her biology notebook, and she _really_ needs to clean her locker.

“ _Honestly,_ Isra, what does Linn want? She doesn’t want anything. Linn is severely depressed. I actually think that, as her roommate, you have a repsonsiblity to make sure she gets out and socializes. Take responsibility for something.”

Vilde thrusts Isra’s books into her chest as Isra just stares at Vilde in surprise. “You’ll host Friday at six,” Vilde finishes, before storming away.

Isra notes Ely standing down the hallway, clearly having more success with his own locker.

Isra doesn’t want to go over and talk to him. And then she remembers _40% lesbian_ and realizes she doesn’t have a choice, not if she wants to keep her friends.

 She quickly grabs the right books before shutting her locker haphazardly and walking down the hall towards Ely.

Isra leans against the locker next to his. “Hey.” 

Ely glances at her for a second. “Oh, me? Am I the one you want to talk to now?”

Isra bites back a retort. “I was wondering something. I kind of…need a bit of advice. So to speak. Because there’s this really cute boy in first year – cuter than any first year has a right to be, frankly - and I’ve kind of managed to fuck things up with him. And he’s got every reason to be upset with me, because I fucked up a promise, and that wasn’t cool of me. So, what I was wondering is… do you think I should go shoot myself or maybe he’ll forgive me?” She nearly cringes after it comes out of her mouth. _Good job, Isra, basically tell a boy to talk to you or you’ll shoot yourself. Good one. 10/10. No wonder you’re single._

Ely’s still staring at his locker but he’s smiling now.

Isra grins in response. “It’s okay if he does it in like 20 years, as long as it happens at some point.”

Ely rolls his eyes at her. “Does anyone ever tell you that you're kind of an idiot sometimes?”

Isra laughs. “Am I an idiot? You think I’m a idiot? Shit! Then there are two boys who think I’m an idiot. Both the cute one and you!”

Ely shuts his locker, walking away and laughing again. 

Isra moves to follow him. “Did you try and murder me with a look just now? Did you try- am I really that much of an idiot? Do you think so?”

Ely rolled his eyes at her, but turned around in an act of seriousness. “I’m serious, though. If you’re not interested, just say so.” 

Isra’s smile falters a little bit, but she recovers quickly. “Of course I’m interested, how could I not be?”

Ely quirks an eyebrow, glances away from her. “I don’t know, you just don’t seem that invested.” The bell rings above them. “Gotta go, talk to you later.” 

Isra stares after him as she walks away, not caring that she’s late. _How could she be more convincing?_

*          *          * 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Tirsadag 18.10.16 @ 14:02_

_Vilde Hellerud Lien & Isra Valtersen_

_Vilde: I have double-checked with Linn and Eskild. They are insanely excited to have the party with you, as it happens. Ok?_

_Isra: Yeah great_

_Vilde: That’s awesome! I will send out invites. The best revue pregame:D_

_Isra: good stuff_

_Vilde: The revue party has a neon theme. Weeee. Do you have any party accessories?_

_Isra: No? Why would i just own neon things_

_Vilde: I’ll take care of it :D :D_  

*          *          * 

Wednesday afternoon, the guys somehow get word that the revue dance auditions are happening right after lunch and they nearly sprint up out of their chairs in an effort to get there fast enough.

That’s the only reason they’re currently in the dance studio, Jonas and Isra squished up into a windowsill.

Isra’s got an Ibsen book open on her lap that she’s blankly staring at, and fortunately they guys are too busy staring at the girls to notice she hasn’t turned a page once in the fifteen minutes they’ve been there.

  _(She wants to look but doesn’t want to be caught staring so resorts to just ocassional glances up when she tries to drink in as much of the girls and their movements as possible.)_

She looks up once Magnus and Mahdi start clapping. All the girls have stopped moving and are now listening to their dance instructor.

_(Isra’s trying not to fixate on the light sheen of sweat coating their bodies and the way their chests are still heaving up and down and the kind of thoughts that that brings to the forefront of Isra’s mind.)_

The dance instructor turns to look at them. “Show’s over boys. Time to go.” He gives her a glance before turning around

“Does that guy really need to be that gay?” Isra says without thinking as the dance instructor moves out of the room.

( _She’s not positive where her outburst is coming from.)_

“…What?” Jonas asks, confused.

Isra turns to him, because she feels irrationally angry that people are aware that _this man, this man right here,_ is gay, and she is too, but no one will ever know that. 

“Didn’t you notice? He’s like, super gay?”

 Jonas glances back out at the emptying dance studio, watching the few last people trickle out before looking backt to Isra. “What’s up with you dissing people for being gay?”

Mahdi and Magnus have gone quiet in front of them, simultaneously trying to ignore and listen in to their conversation.

“I’m not dissing him! But it was like, really obvious.” She knows she’s being petty, isn’t even sure _why_ she won’t just drop it, but it suddenly feels like it’s one of the most important things in the world to call _this_ guy out, who she doesn’t even know, if just to see what happen and she just feels  _so fucking angry._

_(She also wants to know how her friends would react.)_

Jonas blinks at her for a second, looking annoyed. “Yeah, but like? You’re just pointing out that he’s gay. Really good observation, Isra, really. Wow.”

Isra stares at him. “What’s up with you today?”

Jonas turns his head sharply to stare at her in disbelief. “ _With me?!”_

“Yeah!” They’re both nearly yelling now. “You’ve been super pissed lately?!”

 _“Me?_ Are you kidding me?”

“No!"

“You’re the one who’s been like, super snotty and bitchy about everything for _months now!”_

Isra’s outraged. “ _Snotty?!”_

 _“Uh, yeah._ When we got into the classroom you were all-“

“- _fuck you Jonas,_ you don’t even know what you’re-“

 _“_ -No! I don’t know! _No one knows! You don't tell us shit. All you ever do is blow us off! Is-“_

“Hey.” A voice says from in front of them. Isra feels her blood run cold because she _knows_ that voice. 

Evanna is standing in front of them, wearing a maroon dress under her _stupid_ jean jacket, and _fuck her for looking so hot._

Evanna tosses her beanie into her lap, and Isra has a flashing realization that it was the one she had been wearing to Evanna’s house. “You forgot this on Friday.”

Isra feels frozen. All she can think is _shitshitshitshit_ and she _needs_ to say something but her brain is frozen and she can’t think of _what_ to say and it’s been far too long and they all have _most definitely_ noticed her startling lack of a response by now and she wonders how Evanna missed their yelling and the obvious tension that still exists between her and Jonas and Evanna somehow missed the memo that _now is really not the time_. 

“It’s yours, right?” Evanna prompted, still staring at Isra.

“Friday?” Mahdi asks, and she can feel all the guys staring at her now and she’s never wanted to disappear so badly because they’re piecing together that _she was with Evanna when she blew them off because she had been wearing it when they all left together._

“I…think that’s mine?” Jonas asks, sounding as confused as Isra feels because all she can register is Evanna’s _and this is my boyfriend, Sondre._

_(It’s also definitely Jonas’s because she has at least ten pieces of clothing at any given time that are Jonas’s, just like he definitely still has at least three of her oversized Patagonia quarter-zips despite the fact that he passionately denies that.)_

“Forgot where?” Mahdi asks.

 Evanna keeps staring at Isra, waiting for her to answer.

“In the cafeteria.” Evanna shrugs and walks away, seeming to finally get the memo that _now is a shitty time_ and like this entire exchange hadn’t just _destroyed Isra on the inside._

Isra is staring straight ahead, not looking at anyone. 

“Who’s that girl?” Jonas asks, and the _what the fuck_ he’s clearly thinking goes without saying. 

Isra shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, her? She’s just , uh…this revue chick, from Vilde’s group.”

“She’s hot.” Magnus says, like it wasn’t one of the _many things about Evanna that Isra had tried to stop thinking about over the past few days._ “Oh fuck! My dream from yesterday. Fuck. It was about Vilde, and she was like, this Dominatrix sado chick who fucking punish-fucked me for hooking up with a first year…”

The guys start laughing and Isra tries to join in, but she just can’t, doesn’t see a point. 

_(She’s still thinking about the way Isra’s eyes light up when she smiles and her laugh, and Isra subconsciously fingers the beanie still lying in her lap.)_

The four of them are leaving when Jonas grabs her arm on their way out. She turns to look at him. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” She says, glancing down the hallway. Magnus and Mahdi had seemed to sense what this must be about and continued onto class. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t chill of me.”

Isra kicked her foot lightly against the wall. “It’s alright. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, anyways.”

Jonas looks like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, and the two of them lapse into silence, not looking at each other.

Finally Jonas speaks up. “You know, I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything. Serious. Anytime.”

Isra nearly rolls her eyes at him. “Jonas. My dude. My buddy. I appreciate the concern but for the last time _I am fine.”_

Jonas looks away, clearly wanting to say more but ultimately deciding against it. “Yeah.” He checks his watch briefly. “Fuck, I have class.” He looks back at her. “Do you wanna hang out later? Or sometime this week?”

Isra nods. “Sure.” It’s the least she owes him, after all. “I have to call my dad at some point this week but otherwise I’m around.”

Jonas nods. “Okay. Cool.” He turns and starts walking away and then turns back. “Oh! And that revue girl seems pretty chill. You should bring her with, sometime.” Jonas winks at her and turns away.

Isra rolls her eyes and can’t help but call after him. “ _You’re going to have to set up girls for yourself, someday!”_

*          *          * 

Her phone is blaring besides her and Isra groans, reaches over to turn off her alarm.

It takes her a second to realize that it’s not her alarm.

She turns on her side so her face isn’t shoved into the pillow and slides the phone to accept the call without checking her caller ID.

“Hello?" 

“ _-THEY’RE HERE, THEY’VE INVADED, ISRA-“_

Isra groans, rolling on her back as she glances blearily at the time on her phone. 5:51. _“Mamma,_ I seriously doubt-“

“ _-I CAN FEEL THEM, THEY’RE HERE, THEY’RE ALL OVER THE HOUSE-“_

“What is, _mamma_?” _Fuck,_ she’s got school in three hours and she never sleeps as it is.

_“Isra, they’re here, they’re, they’re in the walls, they’re under my skin, Isra, I need to get them out.”_

And _that_ sets off warning bells in Isra’s head and she hurridly jumps out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants from the floor. _“Mamma,_ no you don’t okay?” 

She spots her boots from across the room and puts the phone on speakers, pulling on her shoes. “

Okay, um-“ _fuck, this is bad, “-Mamma,_ I’m coming over and I’ll help you get them out, okay? Don’t do anything until then.”

Isra quickly requests an Uber that’ll be here in four minutes ( _and thank god for late night Oslo)_ and she goes to wait outside, her mother still on the phone. 

Oslo speeds by outside the car but Isra can’t even enjoy it as she listens to her mother yell on the other end of the phone. The car ride takes about 20 minutes, and Isra offers a hurridly _“takk”_ to the driver before she’s standing outside

It’s bitterly cold outside, even for October, and it seeps its way into her bones. She’s frozen to the spot, about ten feet away from the door to her house. She distantly hears the car pull away behind her.

_(She never thought she’d come back here.)_

Her mother’s voice goes silent over the phone, and that’s what eventually snaps Isra out of it, because now she’s been listening to her mother yell for nearly an hour and this sudden silence terrifies her. 

( _She still knew enough about her mother that she knew sudden silence was a million times worse than yelling.)_

She quickly sprints up the stairs, trying the door handle. 

Locked. _Fuck._ Isra quickly reaches behind the dead plant that’s sat on the front doorstep for at least two years, but the spare key is gone.

She swears to herself, moving to the side of the house and opening the fence. 

She runs across the yard, leaning down, and as she expected, the basement window slides open effortlessly.

It’s harder to climb into than it used to be _(back when she used to sneak out to hang with Jonas when her parent’s figihting got really bad)_ but she still manages it and she prays to a God she doesn’t think she believes in anymore that her mother isn’t downstairs, and that her appearance doesn’t startle her because she has no idea how her mother will react in her current state.

The window is high up _(a lot like Eva’s,_ Isra thinks to herself), and she lands with a thump on the cement floor.

The basement is dark, and Isra turns on her phone flashlight, her screen teling her that she’s still technically on the phone with her mother. She’s surrounded by boxes ( _most of which she put here)_ and she hopes her mother hasn’t blocked the basement door.

She makes her way quietly through the room, and up the stairs which creak under her weight.

When she gets to the top, she quickly flicks on the basement light, wincing at the brightness. She turns the knob slowly and meets no resistance. She gently pushes the door open.

The house is silent. Which is more than a little concerning after hours of screaming.

The hallway light is on, and Isra fights down the panic rising in her chest as she makes her way through the house.

“Mamma?” She calls out as she walks into the kitchen, freezing in her tracks.

The marble countertop is splattered with _something_ and Isra nearly starts screaming at that until she realizes that whatever it is in black _(and thankfully not blood_ ). She touches it for a second and stares at the bit that comes off on the top of her index finger. Crushed fennel powder.  _What the fuck?_

She walks quickly upstairs, feeling more panicked the longer her mother stays silent. “ _Mamma?”_ She calls out, heading for the room her mother used to share with her father.

She freezes for a second at the sight of her door, debates opening it, before remembering that she’s wasting time and she’s feeling desperation rise in an attempt to find her mother and that really, she doesn't want to go back in there anyways.

She walks into the room, hearing a sort of scrating noise from the bathroom. The bathroom light is on, one of the few lights on in the whole house, and the room smells a little bit like _buring_ and it sets off warning bells in her head. “Mamma?” She calls. 

 _“Don’t enter!”_ A familiar voice calls from the corner of the bathroom. Her mother had shut the door to the toilet room. Isra hurries over and tries the doorknob. _Locked._

 _“Mamma,_ what are you doing?” She feels her chest heaving and closes her eyes for a second, tries to force herself to calm down, because panicking now won’t do anyone any good. 

 _“They need to come out, Isra.”_ Her mother’s voice has gone flat and distant and Isra’s blood is pounding in her ears.

“What does, Mamma? What are you burning?” Isra uselessly tries the doorknob again. “Mamma, can you let me in for a second?”

 Her mother is silent for a few moments. “I’ll never be free until they come out. This is the best way?”

 “Mamma! No.” Isra’s banging on the door now. She pulls out her phone, dials 999 because she’s so _desperately_ out of her death, and Isra’s breath is coming quickly now and she feels lightheaded. “Mamma, keep talking to me. It’s okay. Tell me about God, tell me about how church has been.” 

“ _Hallo, this is emergency services, how may we be of assistance?”_

“Hi – my, my mother’s attempting to hurt herself. I don’t know. She’s locked herself in the bathroom, I don’t know what to do.”

_“Is it just you and your mother?”_

“Isra, you’ll _never_ understand because you don’t _try_. And I worry that, because of that, you’ll never be saved. You’ll be damned to an eternity in hell. I tried to save you. I tried to save your father. But you both made your choices-“

“Hi, yes, it’s just the two of us. “

“ _Where are you?”_ Isra rattles off her address. “ _Emergency services have been dispatched to your location. Stay on the line with me until they arrive.”_

  
“-but I will not be damned, Isra. I will live an eternal life, I’ve heard it, _I’m destined for_ it. And I wanted you, and I wanted Terje, but there's something not _right about the both of you,_ and in eternity, I will beg for you to be saved, my dear. I will.”

Isra can’t talk anymore, can barely breathe over the pressure in her chest. Her breath is coming in short gasps and she leans against the door to the bathroom. She can feel herself shaking against the door. 

The woman is saying something on the phone and her mother is still preaching at her and it’s become _so much harder to breath_ and that just makes her panic more.

Isra hears a sizzling from inside the toilet room and an accompanying piercing scream from her mother.

She doesn’t register the knock on the front door or the sound of it being broken open, just registers the sudden hands on her arm and her shoulder

Isra can’t _breathe._

She doesn’t even realized there are tears streaming down her face until suddenly another person’s arm is on hers and she barely registers it as she’s pulled out of the room. She distantly feels her back hit the wall as someone gently forces her into a chair in the hallway.

She can’t register what he’s saying, doesn’t notice the EMTs rushing around them. She flinches painfully at the sound of the bathrool door being kicked in and her mtoher’s resulting screams.

She’s feeling dizzier and she’s convinced that this is what dying feels like, and she’s being gently pushed into a chair with her head between her knees. She struggles to breathe but starts to feel less and less like she’s dying. It takes her a few minutes to make out what whoever’s cruched in front of her is saying.

“-you’re doing a great job, keep breathing. Keep breathing as slowly and deeply as possible.”

She focus on her breathing.

“That’s great, you’re doing a great job. Try breathing in for four seconds and then breath out for four.”

She focus on that for a few minutes, and the air around the room starts to clear. She can still hear some commotion in the bathroom, and hears people moving downstairs.

She raises herself and her back slams against the harsh wood of the chair as she stares at the person whose been coaching her through her panic attack.

The EMT is a young man, probably not older than 28 if she had to guess, and he’s still looking at her with concern. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Isra,” she practically sighs, closing her eyes for a moment as she leans against the wall. She feels like she’s just run a marathon.

“Isra,” he repeats, nodding to himself. “I’m Oliver. Have you ever had a panic attack before?”

She nods slightly, still leaning against the wall. All of her exhaustion from the past few weeks has suddenly creeped up on her at once and she wants nothing more but to _sleep._ “A few. It’s been a few years, though.” The times after her mother miscarried. The time her mother locked her in the closet. The time her mother locked her out of the house. The time her mother looked at her, smiled, and said _I’m so proud of you, my dear_ and meant it.

“Okay.” Oliver says. Another EMT walks past them and hands Oliver a water bottle. He cracks the bottle’s seal before handing it to Isra. “Drink, if you want to.”

Isra accepts the bottle from him.

Oliver’s still crouching on the ground in front of her. “Noramlly, we would be required to take you to the hospital, but since this isn’t your first panic attack and I’m frankly not sure that being in there is the best thing for you.” 

Isra nods, twisting the lid of the bottle shut and placing it on the ground, delicately. “No, probably not,” she says, softer than she had intended.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” 

She nods a little bit. She figures she can call her father, have him deal with her mother. She reaches into her pocket for her phone before realizes it’s missing. “Fuck,” she mutters, trying to muster the energy to look around the chair.

“I think you left it in the bathroom, give me a second,” Oliver says, standing up. “Stay here.”

Oliver comes back seconds later, phone in hand. “The screen is cracked, I’m afraid.”

Isra accepts her phone from him, sighing at the cracked glass. There’s a massive cut running from the middle left side of the screen to the home button, and splintered cracks coming off of it. She thinks of how she doesn’t have the money to fix this. “It’s alright, I should have had a case on it, anyways," she mutters, dialing her father. 

 

Her father answers on the fifth ring. _“What is it, Isra?”_ He sounds exasperated. She glances at the cracked phone time quickly. _7:07._

 

“Where are you? Mamma’s going to the hospital, I think. I don’t know. She freaked out and called me and then I freaked out.”

 

_“Isra, I'm at work right now. I won't be able to leave soon.”_

Isra runs a hand through her hair, regretting the tears she feels pricking at her eyes at the stress of the day. “Well I guess you'll have to fucking figure it out then? But you need to do something about it. You're still technically married and this isn't my job.” 

Oliver’s watching the whole exchange. Isra glaces at him. “Do you want me to talk to your father?” He asks, already holding a phone out for the phone.

Isra nods at him. “-Okay, pappa, one of the EMTs is here, he’s going to talk to you.” She hands the phone over. Oliver accepts it willingly, quickly pressing it to his ear. “Try to drink the rest of the water bottle, please.” He says, point at it on the ground. He turns around and wanders a little bit into the hallway.

Isra grabs the water bottle from the ground, swalling a mouthful or two of the water before setting it back on the ground.

Oliver comes back in a moment later, handing it back to her. “Your father is going to meet us at the hospital but likely won’t be able to come home with you. If you’d like, you can call someone else and they can meet us there and they can discharge you, since you’re a minor. They’ll want to look you over there, as well and since you’re a minor, you’ll need to be discharged into the care of another person.”

“Look me over for what?”

Oliver pulls a penlight out of his bag. “Can I see your eyes for a moment?” He quickly shines a light in each eye

There’s a silence between them before Isra speaks up.

“Do you know what happened?”

Oliver doesn’t look back at her for a few moments, just looks around for something in a bag he must have brought with him on the ground. “You called Emergency Services around 5:50, we were sent out shortly afterwards. You were instructed to stay online with the operator, but suddenly a screaming noise was all the operator could here. We came in a few minutes later, your mother was still yelling in the bathroom and you were having apanic attack on the floor and probably have some memory loss surrounding it. We’ve been out here since.”

Isra swallows, feeling more stressed than she can remember in recent memory. “How is my mom?”

Oliver watchers her for a few moments. “She has several minor burn wounds that all either have been treatreated or will be treated when we leave for the hospital in a few moments.” Oliver stood up, taller than Isra had anticipated, and he reached down to offer her a hand which she greatfully accepted. “She’ll also probably be held for psychiatric evaluation. Your father will tell you more later.”

Isra’s shuffled into a seat behind the driver (conveniently out of sight of the back) a few moments later, and she pulls out her phone to text the one person who doesn’t know enough to ask too many questions that she doesn’t want to answer. 

_Til Eskild (Torsdag 7:21:15)_

_Are you up_

_Til Eskild (Torsdag 7:21:32)_

_I need a favor_

  
His responses start coming in a few minutes later while she’s still sitting behind the driver’s seat in the ambulance, pointedly ignoring her mother and trying to focus on the conversation Oliver and the driver are having just as something that doesn’t involve her current situation.

_Fra Eskild (Torsdag 7:27:22)_

_I’m not buying you beer at 7 Isra_

_Fra Eskild (Torsdag 7:27:38)_

_You can wait til the afternoon like a normal person._

_Fra Eskild (Torsdag 7:28:12)_

_You’re too young to be drinking during the week anyways_

 

_Til Eskild (Torsdag 7:28:22)_

_It’s not alcohol related_

_Til Eskild (Torsdag 7:28:30)_

_I need you to pick me up from the hospital_

Her phone starts blaring [the ringtone Eskild picked out for himself](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5aZJBLAu1E) a second later.

 She sighs before hitting _accept,_ knowing that Eskild’s going to have a lot to say.

“ _…-because what the fuck are you doing? It’s 7 Isra!!! 7! What are you doing at this hour that warrents that kind of thing?”_

“-It’s not me.” Isra cuts in quickly, closing her eyes for a second. “Something happened to my mom. Also I might be concussed. And my dad’s a dick. Same song and dnace as usual. But he’ll be there, so if you come discharge me maybe you’ll meet him.”

_(A week ago, Linn, Eskild, and Isra had all been eating takeout together in the kitchen as Eskild lamented the fact that he and Linn had never met Isra’s parents._

_“It’s like your ashamed of us!” Eskild exclaimed._

_Isra had to fight to roll her eyes. “Calm down. They let me move out at 16. Accept that they’re not normal parents.”_

_“I wanna know the kind of people you come from.” Eskild replied, leaning back in his chair._

_Isra though to her father’s comments about_ flamboyance _and her mother’s comments about_ sin _and thought to herself, no, you really don’t.)_

_“Wait, if he’s going to be there, why isn’t he discharging you?”_

“Because I don’t live with him and I’m not even sure where he’s living at the moment and I frankly just want to go back to the apartment and sleep.” 

 _“Fair.”_ Eskild replies, sounding like he’s thinking. _“Which hospital? And how long?”_

Isra sighs in relief. “Aker sykehus. We’ll be there soon so I’m not sure?”

Eskild sighs. _“Thank you for the complete lack of notice. I’ll be there soon?”_

“Thanks Eskild.” Isra rests her haid against the backrest.

_“No problem. You can talk with me about anything, you know that, right?”_

Isra’s never felt less like miling but she can’t help but feel a certain fondness for her flatmate. “I did just call you to pick me up from the hospital, didn’t I?”

 They arrive at the hospital moments later (which is thankfully not busy at 7 on a Thursday). Isra’s situated in a temporary room, playing on her cracked phone when her father walks in.

His hair is dishelved and he’s waering a sweatshirt and jeans. _Clearly not on his way to work like he claims he is._ “Isra. He says.

“Hi pappa,” she says, looking down at her phone.

Her father sighs. “Your mother is being held for psychiatric evaluation until further notice.” 

Isra nods, still averting her father’s eyes. “I figured as much. Tends to happen when you do this kind of thing." 

“It’s not like that-“

Isra stands up off her bed, marching over to him. “Why are you still defending her?!? You’re the one who left, pappa. You clearly got tired of her shit and gave up. You can’t still pull this ‘ _we’re in it together’_ act, because you’re clearly not, since you’re getting divorced, and I moved the fuck out, so I’m clearly no better.” 

She’s staring her father down, and neither of them say anything for a few moments. “Are you alright, at least?” Her father asks, looking towards the windows.

Isra nods slowly. “Yeah. Potential concussion."

Her father looks up at her. “Potential concussion? From what?”

Isra waevs him off. “I fell, don’t worry about it.”

*          *          *

Her father leaves and Eskild arrives minutes later, fussing over Isra like a wounded kitten. 

They take the tram home, Eskild sitting next to her so they’re touching from knee to shoulder.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Eskild slips an arm around her, pulling her closer to him in comfort, rubbing up and down her arm.

She cries quietly the rest of the way home, and when they get to the apartment, Eskild tells Isra to go sit on the couch. She goes, and he returns a moment later with his laptop and some blankets. He plugs his laptop into the TV and hits play on _Stick It!_ (one of the only movies that Eskild and Isra can agree on with no debate).

He flops next to her on the couch, tossing the blanket over her and pulling her back into his side.

She's asleep within ten minutes. 

*          *          *

_Fra Jonas (Torsdag 10:29:38)_

_School??_

_Fra Jonas (Torsdag 12:02:51)_

_10%??_

_Fra Jonas (Torsdag 13:11:18)_

_Everything okay?_

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Torsdag 20.10.16 @ 20:16_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Ely: So cool that you will have the revue party. AND that you live downtown in a collective_

_Ely: Convenient that you have your own place ;)_

_Isra: Yeah, it’s nice_

_Isra: Are you coming tonight?_

_Ely: Yes!_

_Isra: Cool ;)_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Fredag 21.10.16 @ 16:04_

_“Catfucker and Friends”_

_Mahdi: What’s up tonight guys?_

_Jonas: I am bowling but I’m down later today. Isra come with me_

_Isra: I have to go home_

_Isra: Washing day. I have a revue thing tonight._

_Magnus: There is a revue party tonight, but I’m sticking at the pregame with the Nordstrand football guys. Join me?_

_Isra: Can’t, prior obligation to Vilde & co. Might try and ditch and just stay home instead. _

_Mahdi: suprise_

_Jonas: I’m with you._

*          *          *

[ _“One more time we're gonna celebrate_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6RTF4OPzf8)

[ _Oh yeah all right don't stop the dancing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6RTF4OPzf8)

[ _One more time we're gonna celebrate_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6RTF4OPzf8)

[_Oh yeah all right don't stop the dancing…”_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6RTF4OPzf8) 

The thing about hosting pregames is that Isra hadn’t anticipated a) that 30+ people would come ( _she didn’teven think there were that many people in kosegruppa)_ and b) that it would be so much work. 

 _(Vilde showing up two hours early also hadn’t helped out her stress level too much.)_  

Isra’s sitting on the couch with Ely now, him pressed impossibly close to her and her having backed up enough that she now had the arm rest pressing into her back.

Isra’s decently into being drunk at this point, but she’s still not drunk enough to be having this conversation right now.

_(“I just get drunk and focus on what I find attractive about the guy.”)_

Ely’s been going off about something Isra hasn’t been bothering to listen to, just nodding in the right parts and occasionally giving some verbal affirmation.

“So what kind of music do you listen to?” Isra asks, desperate to have an _interesting_ conversation for a few moments.

Ely smiles and wraps an arm around her shoulders and Isra has to fight to suppress her eye roll. Despite their closeness, the two still have to talk loudly to be herad.

“Oh, that’s a hard one. Probably Kygo. Or Swedish House Mafia.”

“”Oh my god. You – you can’t like the Swedes! What? I don’t even listen to EDM music and know there’s got to be better.” Isra’s trying, she really is, but EDM’s never really been her thing so she’s a little out of her depth. 

“What?” Ely protests. “They’re not that bad.”

“No, but they’re not that good! You might as well have just said Bassnectar or something.” Isra still wishes she could black out the entire three years where Jonas had his Bassnectar phase. “I just got a headache thinking about all the base.” Isra laughs, holding a hand to her head in mock-pain. 

“You get a headache hearing about GOOD EDM music?”

“Maybe I’ll just leave,” Isra says, joking less than she had originally intended.

“Chronic Swedish migraine?”

“Always.” Isra laughs, and then turns to Ely in mock seriousness. “No, wait. I can’t leave. I live here. Maybe I’ll just have to kick you out then.” 

Ely quirks an eyebrow at her. “Yeah? You’re throwing me out because I listen to good music? What do you even listen to? I want to know what you think is _so much better_ than EDM music.” 

“Oh, I listen to like, 90s hiphop and and alternative stuff.” Isra waves a hand, attempting to brush him off.

  
“Really?” Ely is surprised. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rap kind of girl.”

Isra shrugs. “ I get that a lot.”

“Who do you like? I’ve listened to some Eminem and Kanye shit in the past, but that’s really it.” 

“Have you listened to Nas?” Isra asks before she’s really thought it through and she has to fight the urge to hit herself in the face.

“Nas?” Ely asks, sounding it out. “Nas. No, I don’t think so.” 

“He made ‘Illmatic’. Best album of all time. You should go listen to it.”

Ely nods. “Okay. Sure. Ill-?” 

“ _Illmatic.”_

Vilde’s voice cuts across the room and Isra can’t help but look up to where Vilde is now greating Evanna.

Isra’s not even pretending to listen to Ely anymore, she’s just staring at Evanna who’s wearing a yellow headband and an _extremely tight white shirt_ (tight enough that Isra can clearly see the outline of her bra) and a short black skirt and really, this isn’t even _fair_ anymore.

Evanna looks over and makes eye contact with Isra and quirks an eyebrow.

( _And god, Isra’s so fucked.)_

Isra grabs a half-empty beer off of the table next to the couch and knocks back the whole thing.

“-You should be happy you’re not a guy. It’s really annoying sometimes, always having to make the first the first move-“

_(“I get drunk and focus on what I find attractive about the guy”)_

Isra looks away and abruptly turns to Ely, kissing him. 

He seems shocked at first but instantly settles into it. Isra wraps her arms around his neck and she feels one of Ely’s hands slide along the line of her bra and the other move to rest at her lower back.

“-I think you guys are bonding a little _too_ much over here.” A familiar voice says, and Isra knows who it is without looking.

The couch shifts a little bit as Evanna plops down on the couch.

“Elin!” Ely exclaims, throwing an arm around her. “How are you?"

Evanna doesn’t call Ely out on her name but looks like she’s close to it. “I thought we were a team!” 

“Yes!” Ely exclaims, looking between the two of them. “ _Kosegruppa.”_

Evanna leans forwards slightly, looking past Ely at her. “Nice apartment” 

“Thanks.”

 

Ely cuts in. “It’s really nice her. Like, cooler than I would expect. Like, I guess there are always cool people here. Like Eskild.” He turns to Evanna. “Have you met him?”

Evanna looks over at Eskild, who is currently dancing and wearing a neon pink wig not far from them. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

“No? He’s super chill. He’s gay, though, so I’ve been trying not to give him the wrong impression.”

Isra has to suppress the urge to roll her eyes because _seriously, Ely?_

Evanna’s gaze suddenly hardens subtly enough that Ely wouldn’t notice because he didn’t know to look for it but it was _there_. “What do you mean by that?”

Ely throws a hand up. “I mean, I think he was hitting on me earlier. WE were having a conversation and like, I don’t know, I just got _vibes_ that he was trying to make a move. Which isn’t cool.” 

Evanna’s still staring at him in disbelief. “What, you have a conversation with a gay man and you assume he’s hitting on you? You don’t think that that’s a little bit superficial? Do you think everyone is hitting on you whenever you have a conversation with them? Is that not a little bit of a generalization for you to make? That all gay me hit on straight dudes?” 

“All gay men _do_ hit on straight dudes. That’s just a fact. People want to like, convert us, or whatever.”

Isra leans back against the couch and closes her eyes and _wills_ this conversation to be over. 

_(“People want to like, convert us, or whatever.”)_

_(“And this is Sondre, my boyfriend.”)_

“-It’s like saying all Muslims are terrorists when statistically, that’s impossible. And queer people aren’t out to _convert_ straight people, or whatever you think.”

“What?!” Ely is defeinsive now, and Ely and Evanna aren’t far from yelling at each other. “No it’s not. They’re not even close to being the same thing. Being a terrorist is super negative.” 

“And claiming that all queer people are out to ‘convert’ straight people _isn’t?”_

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-“

“Isra!” Ely says, pulling her out of her daze. “This is a good song. Let’s go dance.”

Isra lets Ely pull her up. She spares a glance back at the couch as Ely pulls her closer to him, seeing Sondre and Evanna talking to each other and pressed _extremely_ close to one another.

She starts dancing with Ely, mainting some distance.

_("I get drunk and focus on what I find attractive about the guy")_

[ _“Call your girlfriend_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KcRFdCds4)

[ _It's time you had the talk_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KcRFdCds4)

[ _Give your reasons_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KcRFdCds4)

[ _Say it's not her fault_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KcRFdCds4)

[ _But you just met somebody new…”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KcRFdCds4)

 

She looks over and watches Evanna kissing Sondre, one of her hands around the back of his neck and the other on the side of his face, and feels a surge of jealousy.

_“Call your girlfriend_

_It's time you had the talk”_

_(It’s not that she means to watch Evanna and Sondre hook up, it’s just that they’re_ right there _and Isra’s drunk and angry that it’s Sondre with Evanna and not her.”_

Ely has both his eyes closed, one arm wrapped around her back and the other resting slightly above her ass. 

_“Give your reasons_

_Say it's not her fault”_

 

 _(And Isra’s mad at Evanna and mainly just sad and she_ still _feels stupid but feels like being friends with Evanna would be better than not getting to have her at all, because that doesn’t feel like an option for her anymore.)_  

_“But you just met somebody new_

_And now it's gonna be me and you”_

 

There’s a fair bit of maneuvering involved in her position, and Sondre and Evanna shift _just enough_ that it affords Evanna the time to look up at Isra.

_(Evanna is still kissing Sondre and Isra is still kissing Ely but both have become passive members, because Evanna is tall but she’s an inch or two shorter than Sondre and she has the space to look around until Isra and Evanna are making dead eye contact.)_

Neither moves to look away.

_“Call your girlfriend”_

And Isra, despite her struggle with Evanna, can’t simply _forget_ that.

Isra’s forced to finally look away when Ely moves from sucking a hickey into her neck _(which she didn’t mind but hadn’t noticed him doing in the first place)_

The song cuts off soon enough and Eva is yelling. Isra removes herself from Ely and starts stacking cups from the table. Someone turns on the light and Isra surveys the room as people groan.

As far as messes go, it’s not the worst, but there’s certainly a lot of clean up to be done. 

Isra glances around the room again and she makes eye contact with Evanna, who’s now standing between Sondre and Ely who both seem to have become friends at some point.

 _(Her yellow headband is still in her hair and she’s got her jean jacket tossed casually over her shoulder like it’s_ nothing _and really, Evanna’s so straight and out of her league that Isra would laugh if she didn’t feel like crying whenever she thought about it for too long.)_

“Hey,” Ely says, putting a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed him come over. “Me, Sondre and Evanna are gonna take a cab. You should come with.”

“Oh, I, uh, I have to clean up a bit.” She gestured to the cans and bottles littering the apartment. “I’ll take my bike or something, no worries.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ely nods, clearly not expecting this answer. “That’s cool. See you there.” 

Isra waves at him, moving into the kitchen with her arms full. She dumps the stack of empty red Solo cups into the trashcan before moving to the sink, dumping out empty bottles.

She hears someone moving around in the kitchen behind her, and she glances up briefly. She was sure everyone had left.

“Hey.” Evanna says, walking towards her with her arms full of various cans.

“Hey. I thought you took a cab with the others.”

“Nah, I brought my bike.” 

Isra nods in affirmation, quickly placing the empty beer cans beside her

Evanna is standing next to her, emptying bottles as well and Isra’s not sure but for some reason she gets the vibe that Evanna is…angry? 

Evanna glances at her quickly. “Good times with, uh, Ely?” She nods towards the hickey on Isra’s neck. 

 _Fuck,_ she had forgotten about that. She subconsciously moves a hand to cover it. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Maybe.” She pauses for a second, trying to come up with the right thing to say. “HEeis… _definitely_ keen.” She doesn’t bother to mention that _she isn’t._

Evanna doesn’t say anything. She stares at the sink for a few minutes before looking back towards Isra.

“You know, Sondre and I have been dating since we were like, 15 or something.”

“Okay.” _Why are you telling me this?_

“And…I can tell we’re drifting further and further apart.” Evanna’s moved so she has her back against Isra’s sink, her arms crossed slightly under her brests. Isra stares pointedly at the sink, still dumping out cans.

“Okay.” 

“Cause if I dump Sondre, he’ll think I’m doing it because of his aluminum leg.” 

Isra nearly drops the cans at that. Her upper body swivels towards Evanna. “What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“ _Aluminum leg?”_ Evanna’s fucking wit her.

Evanna nods, animated. “Yeah, he had to amputate his entire foot.”

Isra blinked at her. “ _What?_ How does that even happen?”

“He stepped on a land mine at Tjøme when he was nine. Blew off his entire left foot.

“Holy shit.”

Evanna nods, staring off into the distance. “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Evanna nods again, kicking her foot against the air. “He’s doing a lot better than he used to be, though. He’s gotten a lot of help from good, uh… what are they called? Like, physiotherapists. In developing his motor skills again. The aluminum technology has really come a long way, you can barely tell that he’s limping at all.”

A sort of silence builds between them. 

Isra can’t hold it in any longer. “You’re fucking with me again, aren’t you?’ 

Evanna’s laughter is enough of an answer. Isra swats her lightly with her hand. “Fuck you! Are you serious? You’re joking?”

“Do you really think that there are land mines in Tjøme?” Evanna says through her laughter.

Isra throws her hands up. “I don’t know! I haven’t been there in like, ten years. Jesus Christ! You can’t joke about shit like that.”

Evanna quirks an eyebrow at her. “Hey, I could have jokes about something much worse.”

“Uh, _nei._ You really couldn’t have, cause that’s a relly serious thing to joke about-“

 _“_ -I could have joked about her having a vagina!”

Isra stops speaking so she could roll her eyes at Evanna. _Seriously?_

_(Eskild’s voice plays in her head. “With lesbians, it’s usually, like, if they’re just with another girl and they randomly bring up sex.”)_

_(Her mind flashes into something else she read online. "Girls want to test the waters to see if the other girl is queer")._

“That would have been going too far.” Evanna concludes. 

Isra rolls her eyes again. “A vagina, Jesus Christ. Thransgender people exist you know.” 

Evanna tilts her head in acknowledgement. “True. Too far.” 

The two of them go silent and just stare at each other.

“I don’t think that aluminum techololgy could have progressed that much just in the last ten years.” Isra says at last, quiet this time.

 _(She hadn’t realized until now just_ how close _she was to Evanna.)_

“Oh? So that’s what gave me away.” Evanna’s voice has gone quiet now, too.

_And this is Sondre, my boyfriend._

Isra looks away. “He seems…sweet.” It hurts her to say it but she will take whatever she can get with Evanna. And if it means being friends and pretending like she didn’t wish that Evanna was dating her instead of him, so be it.

Evanna doesn’t respond. Isra glances up and averts her eyes once she sees Evanna staring at her.

Evanna looks…sad, almost. 

And then, out of the corner of her eye, mere inches apart from one another, Isra notices that Evanna is leaning closer. 

Isra feels her breath hitch in her throat as Evanna tilts her head down, moving slowly and giving Isra more than enough time to pull away. 

Isra looks up at Evanna, sees that she actually wants this, and tilts her head slightly and Isra closes her eyes because _this must be a dream_ but if so she doesn’t want to wake up when suddenly they hear a loud noise from the living room. 

Isra pulls apart and walks quickly out of the kitchen, not looking back at Evanna because she can’t afford to because _who the fuck is in the apartment because Linn and Eskild are out?_

She didn’t expect to see Noora standing there. 

She expected _even less_ for Noora to be standing there, her suitcases placed on the ground like they’re a mere minor inconvenience and not her entire life packed into two bags. 

Her hair’s gotten longer and she’s got her coat in one arm and _why was Noora here and not in London?_

( _Isra hasn’t moved, just stayed standing in the doorframe.e She can feel Evanna behind her, an arm reached above Isra’s head to rest on the opposite end of the doorframe but she doesn’t think about that because she’s more preoccupied because_ what happened to make Noora come back?) 

“Hi.” Noora says at last, staring at Isra, confused. Noora tilts her head. “Isra. Wonderful to see you, as usual." Her eyes flick towards Evanna behind her. "I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Evanna.” She offers up from behind her, and Isra’s still caught on _what is Noora doing here?_

“Um- Noora,” Isra can’t help but sputter before she stops, taking in the look on Noora’s face.

 _(She’s never seen someone look so_ sad. _And in that moment, she has an idea as to why Noora came back here, to Oslo, alone.)_

“Is…Eskild here?” Noora asks, arms still firmly clenched across her chest as she looks around.

Isra just stares at Noora because she can’t stop thinking about how minutes ago her and Evanna were almost _kissing_ and _what just happened_ and why couldn’t

“I think he went to the party.” Evanna offers up, clearly picking up that Isra’s not going to be too helpful. Evanna glances at Isra. “I should go. I can find Eskild and tell him to come back if he’s still there.”

Isra is shocked out of her daze at that. “Yeah. Here, I’ll show you the door.” 

Evanna shrugs on her jacket as Ely stares at a spot across the floor.

“Hey, can I get your number?” Evanna asks, and Isra glances up sharly. 

“Huh?”

Evanna smiles at that. “Your number? For _kosegruppa?_ Baking, and all that jazz?”

“Oh.” Isra says, because _why else would Evanna want her number._ “yeah, here give me your phone.”

Evanna unlocks her phone, handing it out to Isra. Isra quickly types in her name and number, shooting herself a text with the message “Evanna” so she’ll know whose number it is, and passes it back to him.

“Isra Valtersen?” Evanna glances up at her. “I thought your last name was Yaki?”

Isra stares at her for a second before she suddenly realizes _why_ and breaks out in laughter. “Oh my god, no, it’s a joke. It’s not even funny.”

Evanna quirks an eyebrow, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “Try me.”

“I used to really have a thing for Japanese food. My friend started calling me _Isra Yaki_ as a joke, because it was all I wanted to eat and talk about.” Her parents had been less than impressed because it’s not the easiest thing to get Japanese food _in Norway_ , had merely rolled their eyes at her. Jonas was ready to have a field day the time someone called her _Isra Yaki_ with no context and he realized that his nickname had caught on. “My friends are just assholes who don’t know how to make a real joke.”

“They seem like my kind of people.” Evanna says, and Isra looks away again. 

A silence falls between them. “Guess I’m leaving.” Evanna says, at last.

Isra nods a little too fast, feels the bruise on her face twinge a bit. “Yeah, have fun.” 

“It’d be more fun with you there.” Evanna says, winking, and then quickly moving out the door. She’s doing the thing where she backs up without looking away from Isra. “If I find, uh, Eskild and Linn there, I’ll tell them to call you.”

Isra feels rooted to the spot, can’t even move her head to nod as Evanna turns and walks out the door.

_What the fuck just happened?_

*          *          *

_Facebook Messenger_

_Lørdag 22.10.16 @ 00:06_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Ely: Where are you?_

_Ely: I’m at sitting right at the front. By the dancefloor._

_Isra: Sorry. Had to clean up and was really tired so stayed home_

_Ely: Oki, we’ll miss you here_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Lørdag 22.10.16 @ 03:16_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Ely: Are you awake?_

_Ely: You are hot as fuck_

_Ely: Your mouth would look so hot on my dick_

_Ely: ugh you’re such a tease_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Lørdag 22.10.16 @ 09:56_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Ely: Sorry for the drunk messages last night. Yikes._

_Isra: No worries! Was it cool yesterday?_

_Ely: Yes! Sondre is fuuucking cool. He pretended he was førstiss and had a laughing fit._

_Isra: Cool, I have to go, see ya_

_Ely: okay_

_Fra Evanna (Lørdag 11:27:12)_

_Hey, it's Evanna! I had fun on Friday. We should hang out sometime :D_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs:   
> 1\. Isra's mother in the bathroom is burning crushed fennel powder and burns her skin with it  
> 2\. Isra panics when she knows her mother is in danger and is unable to reach her. 
> 
> Song List:
> 
> Songs:  
> 1\. The Suburbs – Arcade Fire (Title)  
> 2\. Lane Boy – Twenty One Pilots (Isra’s Room Song #1)  
> 3\. Hail To Whatever You Found In The Sunlight That Surrounds You – Rilo Kiley (Isra’s Room Song #2)  
> 4\. Golden Days – Panic! At the Disco (Isra’s Room Song #3)  
> 4.5. It's Raining Men (Eskild's ringtone)  
> 5\. One More Time – Daft Punk (Pregame Song #1)  
> 6\. Call Your Girlfriend (Sultan & Ned Remix) – Robyn (Pregame Song #2)
> 
> *****  
> So the vast majority of this chapter was written in January and, outside of today, this word doc hasn't been opened since . I've been having a lot of personal and emotional issues in the last few months, and this has in turn drastically affected my school work and a lot of my social and emotional wellbeing and I've been struggling to get things back under control both for myself and for my academics because everything has been just really fucking shitty lately. 
> 
> My last day of exams are next Friday (5/12) and then after that I anticipate having MUCH more time to write. I anticipate at the very least finishing season 3 of this story. I'm not sure how exactly if/when I'll do season 4. I would really like to, but I'm not sure how feasible it is. I have some ideas for other fics though, and at the very least those are going to go up. 
> 
> I haven't responded to them all, but I just want to let you guys know that I read every single one of your comments and they're all so utterly kind and make my day. A lot of the minor edits re: things that would switch up have been made, but there are definitely past sections that need to be reworked. I'm going to go back and reread the whole thing and make all of the necessary edits so that will be done before the next chapter goes up, but I figured at the very least I should give you guys this chapter since it's already been nearly 4 months. 
> 
> I'm so incredibly sorry for the long ass wait, but thanks to everyone who is still reading and kudos-ing and commenting on this story, because it means the world <3 <3 <3 love you all 
> 
> also if someone wants to tell me how to put emojis in text that would be a++


	9. i wanna be the one to walk in the sun

*          *          * 

“…And all he does is work! And it seems as though money is… the single most important thing all of a sudden. And he just, he becomes a completely different person whenever he’s with his dad…” 

Isra’s focus has been in and out the entire hour the four of them have been sitting here, but in her defense, this is the _fifth time_ Noora has rehashed this story and it just seems to get longer every time she tells it.

_(And it’s hard for her to imagine, that kind of devastating loneliness that Noora must have felt that made her, a girl who ran away to Spain and then Oslo by herself as soon as she was old enough to, to walk away from William like that.)_

_(But she still remembered that time in Chris’s car, and to her, William will likely always be little more than a fuckboy.)_

Eskild’s looking like he’s not doing much better at paying attention than Isra is. He keeps lightly braiding a small section of Noora’s hair before undoing it and restarting, making affirmative noises in all the right places.

“…And those ‘ _stock broker colleagues’_? It’s like, he looks up to his dad so much. He just, he lights up whenever he enters the room. And I get that! I get it. Because…he’s never gotten that kind of recognition before…”

Isra starts typing out a text to Evanna and then deleting it. What does she say?

_Til Evanna_

_Hey, thanks for yesterday. What are your plans for today?_

_Til Evanna_

_Hey, yesterday was chill. Wanna hang later?_

She doesn’t hit send though, because it still doesn’t feel _right._

“All by myself in London. Because I left to be with him. But we’re never actually together…”

“Yeah. “ Eskild chimes in, the only one of the three of them still putting in an effort to entertain Noora at this point. “No, I mean, I get that. To be completely honest, things haven’t been all that easy here either.”

 

_Til Evanna_

_Hey, thanks for yesterday. Have any plans for today?_

 

“I mean, I don’t know. It’s been really chaotic and one week I had to wipe myself with one of Linn’s sanitary pads.”

Isra hits send on her text and she looks up at Eskild. _What the fuck?_

Eskild’s still talking whimsically, not paying her any mind and tilting his head from side to side. “I mean, it’s completely…and Isra, she…she’s a good kid but she’s just…she’s just so lazy, you know? She tries, sometimes but like. She’s not like you. “

She looks up, rolling her eyes. “Eskild? I’m right here.”

Eskild stares at her in disbelief. “Yeah? So? You have to be able to understand that I’m happy Noora is back home without feeling jealous or hurt, Isra. I love you too, you know that. “

Isra scoffs at that. “Jealous? I’m not jealous.” _She’s not jealous, she’s just…stressed right now._ “But we’ve obviously got to find a solution, because if Noora’s moving back in, then that means there are four people in a three bedroom apartment. “

Eskild looks at her like she told him he just murdered his kitten. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

It’s Eskild’s turn to scoff at her. “I mean, here’s Noora, back home after having been dumped by the man of her dreams, and the only thing you’re thinking about is if there are enough beds? I mean, can’t you sleep on the floor?”

Noora’s shaking her hand and she holds up a finger. “Hang on, I wasn’t dumped-“

“No, you weren’t dumped, but-“

“I was the one who left him.”

Eskild sighs dramatically. “It was.”

“And we didn’t…break up. We’re just taking a break.”

Isra’s trying to be respectful, but _seriously Noora? This guy?_

“And if he really loves me, then he’ll come after me.”

Eskild shifts, moving into Big Brother mode. “Uh, I think that, I don’t know, but people leave their lives and kids for the ones that they love. And so if he really loves you, well, then he’ll choose you. I think it’ll be okay. It’s good to have you back home.”

Isra’s phone vibrates in her hand and she looks at it instantly.

_Fra Evanna (Lørdag 11:53:19)_

_Yeah, thanks for last night, I hope that everything is okay with Noora. I had forgotten that I had already made plans with Sondre. Sorry. See you in school._

_(And this is my boyfriend, Sondre.)_

Isra can’t help but feel disappointed, dropping her phone onto the ground next to her.

_(If he really loves you, he’ll choose you.)_

_(I had forgotten that I had already made plans with Sondre. Sorry)_

“Are you happy to be back home? How was my cocoa?”

Eskild had gotten Noora to smile, Isra will give him that.

 _(She has three unread texts from Ely and she deletes the conversation without bothering to read them.)_  


*          *          *

 

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 14:02:05)_

_Did you wish your mum a happy birthday?_

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 14:04:53)_

_I think you should go home to her today. Can I drive you?_

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 14:14:19)_

_I don’t have the time_

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 14:27:01)_

_Go yourself, you’re the one who should look after her_

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 14:28:19)_

_I understand you’re busy. I can send her flowers from us_

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 14:28:51)_

_Fine._

_Fra Pappa (Lørdag 14:30:09)_

_Would you like to have lunch with me next week? Hugs, dad_

_Til Mamma (Lørdag 20:32:52)_

_Hei mamma. Happy birthday. Love, Isra_

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 21:59:59)_

_I hear yoUhaven’t been t_

_o church recently._

_You and your father HVAE to do better._

_Fra Isra (Lørdag 22:37:41)_

_Haven’t seen Pappa since the summer. I’ll try to visit with you both soon._

_Fra Mamma (Lørdag 23:19:02)_

_Loveyou missyou. Start CHILREN off theWay they should go, andEven whent hey areold they will not turnsfrom it!!pROverbs 22:6t_

 

*          *          *

 

_Fra Evanna (Søndag 19:23:35)_

_How do you feel about memes_

_Fra Isra (Søndag 19:23:52)_

_I love memes <3 _

_Fra Evanna_

__

_Fra Isra (Søndag 19:25:02)_

_Hahaha_

_Fra Isra (Søndag 19:26:09)_

__

_Fra Isra (Søndag 19:26:19)_

_Good weekend?_

_Fra Evanna (Søndag 19:26:50)_

_Yeah. Probably better than the fox’s at least_

 

*          *          *

 

Her father calls her four times that evening and twice the next day before Isra finally loses her patience and answers.

She sitting with Jonas, both of them in a free period, when her father calls her again and she finally snaps. She slides the _accept call_ button as she shoves her books into her bag.

“It’s my father,” she mutters to Jonas, who looks at her with sympathy as she slings her bag over her shoulder, walking out towards the courtyard.

“What.” She nearly demands, pulling the phone away to check the time. _She has to go back to her locker in five minutes if she wants to make it to class on time._

_“Hei Isra! How are you?”_

Isra fights the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“ _Good! Good. Busy with work but eh…that’s the usual. Have you been to see your mother?”_

Isra stares at some third-years across the courtyard. “No. I don’t even know where she is. Because every time I ask you, you trail off and change the topic.”

“ _She’s eh…at home.”_

“By herself?” Isra asks, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

_“Ah, no. I don’t think so. I think your grandparents are there. You should go see her.”_

Across the courtyard, ne of the third years does some sort of hand gesture with the other, and their whole group starts yelling with excitement. Isra wishes she were anywhere but here. “You know she doesn’t want to see me.”

_“She doesn’t mean that.”_

“Oh really? Is that why she specifically says that every time she has one of these _events?”_

 _“Isra.”_ Her father sighs, and she feels like she’s five again.

“Whatever. Fuck, she can call you next time she decides she wants to burn the house down." 

_“Don’t use that tone with me.”_

Isra eye rolls _hard_ and a part of her wishes that this was a video call just so he could see it. “ _Fine._ Have you been to visit her?”  
  
_“I’ve been busy with work.”_

“Of course you have,” Isra mutters to herself. She pulls the phone away for a second to glance at the time. She moves towards her locker. “Pappa, I have to go. Talk to you later.” She ends the call without waiting for a response and pushes through the door to the hallway. 

Isra’s immediately assaulted with the image of dozens of orange papers taped to lockers. She pulls the bright orange note off of her locker. _Blinder’n and Nissen’s Halloween Party. Friday at Skansen._

She can’t avoid crumping it up and throwing it behind the row of lockers. Call her petty, but she’s not in a good mood, and it makes her feel just the _slightest_ bit better.

She punches in her locker code, hears it buzz in affirmation, and moves to turn it.

It doesn’t budge. _Fuck._ She doesn’t have time for this.

Isra bangs her hand against the locker a couple of times to no avail.

She slides her bankcard out of the [wallet holder adhered to her phone](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1XSawQFXXXXXdXXXXq6xXFXXXK/Elastic-Lycra-Cell-Phone-Wallet-Case-Credit-ID-Card-Holder-Pocket-Stick-On-3M-Adhesive-Black.jpg%20) and attemps to use it to jimmy the door open unsuccessfully. The locker refuses to swing open, just keeps buzzing frantically. _Fuck this._

“Hello.” A familiar voice says. Evanna’s standing their, leaning against the locker with her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.

“Hi.” Isra says, glancing down at the ground.

“Are you going to the Halloween thing?” Evanna asks after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, nodding at one of the orange papers littering the entire row of lockers.

“Uh, no.” _Not if you’re not._ “Or? Maybe. I don’t know.” _Play it cool._ “Are you?”

Evanna shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. You should come.”

Isra nods quickly. “Yeah. Okay." 

“Okay.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, cool. We could pregame together? Meet up with the guys after? Or have them come later or something?”

 _FUCK that is the last thing that should happen._ “Yeah, sounds good.”

 _Fuck._ Isra and Evanna, pregaming. _Fuck fuck fuck what do I do?!_

“Cool.” Evanna says, waling backwards a little bit. She’s still staring at Isra when she bangs a fist against Isra’s locker, causing it to swing wide open before spinning on her heel and walking down the hallway.

 _How the fuck did she get that open?_

“Hey.” Jonas says from his locker, and Isra blinks for a second. She hadn’t noticed him appear.

“Hi.” 

He’s fiddling with something in his locker. “Did you do anything this weekend?”

Isra shrugged. _I almost kissed a girl in my kitchen and I’m freaking out about it and you don’t know because I’m worried I’m going to lose you over this._ “No.”

Jonas glanced up at her.

_(She misses her best friend.)_

“Yeah. I saw, but. A lot happened over the weekend. “ Isra looks down and starts paging through the book in her hands because she suddenly can’t bear to look at Jonas. “Noora came home! Did you hear? Apparently her and William weren’t working out in, uh, London.”

Jonas nods. “Yeah, I did hear that.” He glanced at her again. “I also hear that you hosted a pregame.”

 _Fuck._ “Oh. Um, yeah. I did. Kind of. Mainly it was Vilde, she kind of forced me into it. And I told you guys about it anyways. She wanted to do a _kosegruppa_ thing at mine and she kind of went around me and asked Eskild and Linn so I had no choice but to agree. But like, I didn’t really host it. It was more she was hosting it at my place. But it was just boring. And you guys didn’t want to join _kosegruppa_ anyways, because you said it was girly or whatever, so like, you can’t be salty that you didn’t get invited.” The whole speech comes out _much_ faster than she had intended it too.”

Jonas nods at her, staring at his locker. “Yeah.”

“You guys didn’t miss out on anything. I honestly think I told you in the Facebook group chat. And you could always join Kosegruppa and come in the future.” 

Jonas cracks a smile at that. “I think I’m good, but thanks for the offer.”

The two of them fall silent.

Finally, Jonas speaks up. “It’s Magnus’s birthday Saturday though.”

“Yes! I knew that.” Truthfully she had know his birthday was sometime in the fall, but nothing more than that.

“Yeah. So Mahdi and I thought we’d put together something cool for him.”

“Yes! Most definitely, I’m in. Yes.” Honestly, Isra misses her boys. She’s been pulling apart, she knows, but that had been mostly unintentional.

She’s trying her best but it’s not good enough anymore.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! We’ll find him a girl, we can make sure he gets laid for the first time.” Something feels tight in Isra’s throat but she can’t place it.

Jonas laughs at that. “For the first time, yeah.

“It’ll be good.” Isra says, shutting her locker. “Call those dancer chicks he loves.” 

Jonas nods. “Yeah, he seems to really like them.”

Isra quirks an eyebrow at him. “Last I noticed you seemed to really like them too." 

Jonas scoffed at that. “I have eyes, I notice things.”

Isra smiles at him, trying to push down the panic coursing through her blood. “But Saturday though. It’ll be good.”

Jonas nods, before widening his eyes in surprise. “We could get Vilde.”

Isra rolls her eyes at him. “Oh my god, you guys need to stop encouraging Magnus’s weird sado dominatrix thing.”

Jonas quirks an eyebrow. “What? It’s funny?”

“Funny? It’s _weird!”_ Isra grins and throws her bag over her shoulder. The two of them walk away.  
  
“It’s Magnus, he’s not quite right.”

“He’s being a little crazy with these fantasies, really. Needs a dose of reality.”

 

*          *          *

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Mandag 24.10.16 @ 16:34 PM_

_“Kollektivet”_

_Linn: I’m going back home to Larvik for a few days so Noora can stay in my room_

_Eskild: But I love when Noora stays in my room with me_

_Noora: Thanks Linn_

_Noora: Your offer is so welcome. I need a break from Eskild and what sounds like wet dreams at night_

_Isra: Hehehe_

_Eskild: Ha-ha-ha_

_Eskild: Noora became so rude in London_

_Noora: <3 _

 

*          *          *

 

_Fra Evanna (Tirsdag 16:56:31)_

__

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 16:59:16)_

_Hehehe_

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 16:59:36)_

_Seinfeld fan?_

_Fra Evanna (Tirsdag 15:00:02)_

_Seinfeld’s fucking awesome_

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 15:00:47)_

_Yes_

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 15:01:15)_

[ _https://vine.co/v/ee9XnrADwzl_ ](https://vine.co/v/ee9XnrADwzl)

_Fra Evanna (Tirsdag 15:03:42)_

_SHAKIRA SHAKIRA_

 

_Fra Evanna (Tirsdag 15:04:03)_

_“Wakka Wakka” was the last time our universe was united. Except for maybe Pokemon Go_

_Fra Isra (Tirsdag 15:04:59)_

_Hahaha true_

*          *          *

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Tirsdag 25.10.16 @ 19:50_

_Sana Bakkoush & Isra Valtersen_

_Isra: Hello_

_Isra: Could I get your notes from physics?_

_Sana: What for?_

_Isra: We have a test on chapter 4 on Thursday. Didn’t you get it last week? Do you remember the questions?_

_Sana: That’s cheating_

_Isra: It’s not really cheating_

_Isra: It’s borrowing your notes_

_Isra: which is what friends let friends do!_

_Isra: sanaaaaaaaaaa_

_Isra: I’m so fucked. Please_

_Sana: Check your emails_

_Isra: Thanks Sanasol!!!!_

_Sana: You’re welcome Isak!!!_

_Isra: Original_

_Sana: B)_

*          *          *

 

“…Genes. The donor’s genes are therefore carried into the next generation…”

 

_Fra Mamma (Onsdag 13:41:14)_

_.have mercy on meOGod according to your unfailing love aaccording to YOUR_

_Fra Mamma (Onsdag 13:42:02)_

_great_

_compassions!!!!_

_Blot out my transgressions_

 

“…when the receiver splits. Because…”

 

_Fra Mamma (Onsdag 13:42:12)_

_Wash away all my iniquity and. Cleanse me of my sin for I know my transgression and my sin is awlays before me against you you only have I sinned and done what is EVIL IN YOUR SIGHT_

 

“…the transfer of genetic material can occur in three different ways. Do you agree?”

 

Isra stares at her phone, wondering, just once, what would happen if she texted her mother back. Texted her and told her that _her religion is unfounded_ or _religion has proven false to science_ or if she asked her mother _when has religion even ONCE helped her?_

 

“Can you focus?!” Sana demands, forcing Isra to glance up at an unhappy Sana.

 

“Sorry,” she says, locking her phone and placing it screen-down on the table. She glances down at her book, uninterested, before glancing back to Sana.

 _Sana’s going to kill her for asking this._ “Sana, I have a question. How are you religious?”

Sana flicks her eyes up, looking instantly wary. “What do you mean?”

Isra glances around, looking for unfounded inspiration. “I mean- it’s 2016 and the world is progressing. You’re obviously really smart – smarter than I am, definitely, - and you do general studies,” Isra’s hit with the alarming realization that she’s digging herself a hole here but she doesn’t know how to get out of it “- don’t you realize your religion is unfounded? Like, there’s no proof.”

Isra doesn’t know if she’s being glared at or examined. Sana’s clearly thrown a mask up. “Is there something about my religion that bothers you?” 

“No!” Isra’s quick to exclaim, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. She moves to smooth the corner of her notebook, her hands desperate for something. “No, no.” She starts rearranging the few things on their table just so it gives her something to do. “It’s nothing specific about your religion, or Islam in general, other than the fact that Islam believes that some things are inherently right and some things are inherently wrong. And that, there’s a God who gets to decide those things, and says that homosexuality is wrong.”

She’s breathing heavily and Sana is glaring at her and it hits Isra that she’s just been the most _obvious person on the planet._ “And also, like, you shouldn’t eat hot dogs or just stuff like that.” She has to keep herself from punching herself because _really, Isra, what a horrible save._

Sana’s lips are pursed and Isra isn’t getting anything off of her. Sana’s quiet for a few moments before she starts speaking slowly. “What is it that _you_ believe, Isra?”

“Me? I believe in – I simply believe in, like. Natural science. The theory of evolution. Nothing else really besides that”

Sana subconsciously folds her hands in front of her. “The theory of evolution? Okay. How do you explain homosexuality in regards to natural selection?”

Isra has no response to that.

“Evolutionarily homosexuality is a genetic dead end. Homosexuals don’t pass on their genetics. So they should have, according to the theory of evolution, gone extinct millions of years ago.”

Sana continues. “Unless, of course, homosexuality isn’t genetic. But a mental illness, or a choice one makes. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Isra’s frozen for a moment, fighting down the panic in her throat that’s threatening to rise to the surface. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t go around thinking about it all the time.”

“Right.” Sana says coolly. “So considering that you don’t have all the answers either, can’t we just agree on the fact that there is a lot more between heaven and earth than anyone of us knows? And instead of criticizing my religion, can’t you just respect that we have chosen different beliefs?”

Isra closes her eyes for a second, the gravity of their situation resting in front of her. “Sana-“

“Hey!” A familiar voice says from beside her, and Isra nearly groans at the fact that _of course_ Ely is going to come over now. 

“Ely!” Isra says, faking a smile. Judging by Sana’s face, it’s not convincing. 

“I talked with Sondre about Friday, something about how you and Evanna are hanging out beforehand?”

Isra blinks at him for a second before remembering that Evanna _had actually t_ exted her to make plans. “Yeah! We just want to hang out, haven’t had a lot of time lately.”

Ely nods, his shaggy brown hair getting in his face for a moment before he sweeps it aside. “Okay, cool. What time were you thinking we should come over? Or just meet at the party.”

“Uh…. come over at 22? Maybe?” Isra checks the time on her phone to make it look like she’s actually checking something. “I’ll talk with Evanna and text you back.” 

Ely nods for a second. He spares Sana a glance before quickly turning back to her. “What are you doing for a costume?”

Isra blinks at him for a second. “Huh?”

Ely grins. “It’s a Halloween party. You have to have a costume.”

Isra nods for a second. “What are you doing?”

Ely shrugs. “I don’t know. We could do something together, if you’d like? Sondre and Evanna are matching, I think. God and an angel.”

 _No, I absolutely do not want to do that,_ Isra thinks to herself. “Maybe!” She tells Ely, checking her phone again. “I’ll think on it and text you.”

Ely’s phone starts ringing, and Isra takes a moment to thank all the gods she doesn’t believe in for that fact that he is _leaving._ Ely gives her a nod. “I’ll text you,” he tells her before walking away.

Isra sighs as she leaves, glancing down at her phone. _No new notifications._

She glances back up and Sana is giving her a knowing look. “New boyfriend?” she asks.

Isra stutters a little, flipping the pages of her biology textbook aimlessly in front of her. “What? No. Decidedly not.”

“Mhm.” Sana says, unconvinced. “Whatever you say.”

“What _I say,_ Sana Bakkoush is that there is a test tomorrow that we should be studying for.”

“Oh sure, _now you want to study-“_

*          *          *

 

_Facebook Messenger_

_Onsdag 26.10.16 @ 20:19_

_Jonas Noah Vasquez, Mahdi Disi, & Isra Valtersen_

_Jonas Noah Vasquez has named the group “MAGNUS’S BIRTHDAY BITCHES”_

_Mahdi: Magnus’ birthday is on Saturday btw_

_Isak: Yeah what should we do? We have to do something awesome for him_

_Jonas: 17 years old. This is a fucking important age. What can be awesome?_

_Isra: don’t do the weird sex shit u guys keep talking about_

_Mahdi: …Dress him up…_

_Jonas: …Put a mask on him…_

_Isra: don’t feed his weird sado thing_

_Jonas: And then we’ll fix him with Vilde in a cat costume_

_Isra: vilde is definitely a cat person_

_Jonas. BAM. Sweet seventeen yo._

_Jonas: Nah, we’ll fix something good for Reggismeggis_

_Isra: yesssss_

_Isra: keep us updated_

* _*          *_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:29:57)_

_Hey Isra. Ready for Halloween tomorrow?_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:30:17)_

_Hello, yeah what’s happening exactly? Ely said something about it? And mentioned he talked to Sondre about it? Are they friends now?_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:30:59)_

_Yeah you know I obviously have a boyfriend slash personal event planner._

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:31:35)_

_Haha I should have known_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:32:02)_

_Can you host? The event planner needs a confirmation. You’re the closest, and Sondre and Ely both live with their parents and my place will be otherwise occupied by my parents/siblings that night._

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:33:50)_

_Ok. Confirmed._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:34:33)_

_Awesome_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:35:59)_

_Sondre has a plan and is very concerned about punctuality. What time should I tell him? 10?_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:36:47)_

_That should do. Come with the event planner and the liaison at 22. You can come over earlier if you’d like to hang._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:36:59)_

_Would 20:30/21 work? I’ll just tell Sondre you need help setting up or something_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:37:15)_

_I hope you won’t look too nerdy in your costume._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:37:20)_

_What are you guys doing anyways?_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:37:39)_

_20:30 works! Come over whenever. Not partnering for costumes. Ely’s doing something. I don’t know what._

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:38:01)_

_I’ll tell you what I’m doing but you have to promise not to laugh_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:38:16)_

_Okay, I pinky promise that I won’t laugh at you_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:38:52)_

_Okay_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:40:03)_

_I’m going as a koala_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:42:15)_

_Fuck you!!! You’re definitely laughing_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:42:36)_

_Oh no_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:42:45)_

_I’m not laughing_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:43:10)_

_Why a koala? Not a sloth? Are they your favorite marsupial?_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:43:29)_

_Will there be tree climbing involved? Please say yes_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_Unfortunately no tree climbing probably. Depends on how much I have to drink._

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:47:09)_

_My whole plan is like, grey skirt, grey shirt, cut out a circle and tape it to the shirt or something. Make some construction paper koala ears w a headband. Idk. Ill probably be cold as fuck._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:48:24)_

_Damn girl. I admire your dedication_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:48:39)_

_I try_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_What are you doing >_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_****???_

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_Sondre and I are going as God and an angel._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_He came up with it_

_Fra Isra (Torsdag 19:44:16)_

_classic_

_Facebook Messenger_

_Torsdag 27.10.16 @ 21:52_

_Ely W. Larzen & Isra Valtersen_

_Isra: Hey_

_Isra: Pregame tomorrow @ Mine @ 10 ?_

_Ely: Yeah. So cool!_

_Ely: Can’t wait to see you_

_Isra:. Are you sorted?_

_Ely: Yes!_

_Isra: Ok. Awesome_

_Ely: No stress_

_Ely: Looking forward to it_

_Isra: Good mood :)_

_Til Evanna (Torsdag 21:58:12)_

_Hey! Pregame tomorrow @ mine @ 20:30/21 still on?_

_Til Isra (Torsdag 22:01:27)_

_Sounds good!! See you then_ _J_

*          *          *

 

Fortunately, Isra ends early on Fridays. Which gives her plenty of time to go home and panic. 

Suddenly, everything she owns is unacceptable. There are clothes littering her floor, an overflowing trash bin in her room, haphazardly stacked books everywhere, and everything is _completely unacceptable._

Isra picks up all her dirty clothes off of the floor and throws them in her already overflowing laundry bin. She busies herself around her room, picking all of her clean clothes off of her chair and putting them in her wardrobe,

She’s pulling clean clothes out of the dryer to bring back to her room when Eskild pokes his head into the laundry room.

“Is this _our Isra? Doing laundry?_ Fy faen, I feel like I should take a picture it, caption it _‘baby’s first time doing laundry’_ or something. I’m surprised you even knew how to work it.” 

Isra sighs, piling her now-clean clothes into her laundry bin. “I did laundry, like, three weeks ago. Anyways it’s a laundry machine. It’s not that hard.” 

Eskild clicks his tongue at her. “Oh Isra. Sweet baby Isra. So young. So innocent.” Eskild puts a hand on her cheek as she tries to move her way around him to get back to her room. Eskild follows her as she walks back to her room. “It’s okay Issy, I know you had to ask Linn how to use the washer the first three times you tried, really admirable, I’m- _did you clean your room?!”_

Isra sighs, setting down her laundry bin and sitting on the floor to put her clothes away. “You’re the one always telling me to do it, Eskild.”

“Yes, well, that’s in part because you _never_ do it. Ever.” Eskild’s tone takes on a hint of suspicion. “Why are you cleaning your room and doing laundry?”

Isra folds a shirt, quickly putting it in the drawer. “Maybe I’m trying to be a semi-functioning human being for once.”

Eskild snorted behind her.

Isra folds another shirt. “I’m having a friend over tonight?” It sounds more like a question than she intended. 

Isra can feel Eskild’s disbelieving eyes on her back from the doorway. “A friend? You never clean for friends. Wait – _is this a lady friend?”_

“I’m not gay, Eskild.”

“Right, Isra, pinnacle of heterosexuality, you’ve told me before, _and yet the circumstances under which we met say differently._ So tell me: lady friend, yes/no?”

Isra sighs, dropping the jeans she’s holding. Eskild takes this as an affirmation and quickly skips over to her. “Issy, baby, I’m _so happy for you,_ I knew this day would come-“

Isra stands up, holding on to Eskild with one hand and maneuvering him towards the doorway as he starts talking about different ways to have sex and foreplay and things that, Isra, in general, does not want to hear when someone _whose sexual orientation she still isn’t sure on_ with a boyfriend of four years shows up in a matter of hours.

Isra drops Eskild’s arm once he’s on the other side of the door, quickly shutting it. “Bye Eskild!” She calls to him.

“ _Wait – Isra! I haven’t even told you how lesbians have sex yet!”_

Isra chucks a book at her door. _“This is why Google exists, Eskild.”_

*          *          *

Isra’s not going to lie. The first half hour with just the two of them is a little awkward.

She feels like an absolute _dipshit_ in her costume, with her fucking koala ears taped to an old headband and her grey skirt and shirt combination with converse. It’s not a complex costume, by any means, but she just feels dumb. 

Evanna, of course, looks ethereal, wearing white with a fake wire halo and fake mesh angel wings on her back.

They’re both tiptoeing around the other and it’s like, _not even subtle_. 

Evanna and Isra go into the kitchen ( _and Isra can’t stop thinking about the last time they were together in the kitchen)_ and Evanna takes charge, pulling open the fridge. “How do you feel about mixed drinks?”

Evanna mixes them some _very_ strong drinks. They move to the couch and just… _talk._ Isra learns that Evanna is actually ’97, her favorite color is orange because it reminds her of the sun, she listens to a lot of alternative music in addition to rap and her all time favorite album is [Sufjan Stevens’s ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsGODTySH0E&list=PL67VKSNJdY_XBvoFECHFKyesxnDhTVM8N)_[Carrie& Lowell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsGODTySH0E&list=PL67VKSNJdY_XBvoFECHFKyesxnDhTVM8N). _

In turn, Isra talks about how she had always wanted a cat but her parents used to not like pets (pointedly ignoring the fact that she didn’t live at home anymore), her love for Arcade Fire (also choosing to ignore how much _We Exist_ had effected her), and her friends. 

Isra feels herself falling more and more in love and she knows its dangerous, knows that there’s definitely a reason Evanna switched schools and had to repeat a year, knows that it’s definitely risky to fall in love with someone currently in a relationship that’s basically been going since 2012.

_(Wait - love?!?)_

_(Isra still can’t stop fucking thinking about Evanna’s emphasis on Sondre’s fake-leg story. What was the point of telling her that, if not to let Isra know that she’s just_ looking _for a reason to dump her boyfriend?_

They’re both a few drinks deep, sitting far too close to each other on Isra’s bed when next door to them, Eskild starts his _Anthems_ playlist, which is music designated for _Eskild Fun Times, Do Not Enter_. They both startle a bit at the music, and Isra glances back up at Evanna.

[The song plays like they’re underwater, muted by the walls between them despite the loud volume Eskild started it on. ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

“I love this song.” Evanna says, reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair behind Isra’s ear.

[ _I just can't get you out of my head_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Boy your loving is all I think about_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Isra and Evanna are _inches_ from each other, breathing the same air, and completely in one another’s headspace.

[ _I just can't get you out of my head_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Boy it's more than I dare to think about_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

_(If one of them moved even the slightest bit, they’d be kissing.)_

[ _I just can't get you out of my head_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Boy your loving is all I think about_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

It’s like the kitchen after the pregame, but worse.

[ _I just can't get you out of my head_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Boy it's more than I dare to think about_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Isra has never wanted anyone so badly in her life, but she can’t be the one to initiate putting Evanna in that kind of situation.

[ _Every night_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Every day_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Just to be there in your arms_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Won't you stay?_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Won't you lay?_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Stay forever and ever and ever and ever_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Like a tidal wave, all of her doubts creep up on her at once. Her parents, her _mother,_ she’s never done this before, not really, because the time with Julie Dahl doesn’t really count, and _Hi, this is Sondre, my boyfriend of 4 years,_ and _homosexuality is some kind of choice or mental illness._

[ _There's a dark secret in me_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[_Don't leave me locked in your heart_  ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Isra glances down but something must was over her face because suddenly Evanna’s hand is in hers and it’s _electric._ “Hey.” Evanna says, and Isra glances back up. “Just because- you know, we don’t have to do anything.” 

[ _Set me free_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _Stay forever and ever and ever and ever_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _La la la_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[ _La la la la la_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

[_La la la_  ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Isra shakes her head just slightly. “No.” she whispers, quiet enough that anyone further away than Evanna wouldn’t have been able to hear it. She swallows quickly. “I want to.”

[_I just can't get you out of my head…_ ](http://fromanotherroom.tumblr.com/post/160032457035/cant-get-you-out-of-my-head-playing-from-another)

Evanna gently holds Evanna’s other hand in hers and leans forward slightly so the two are pressed together, forehead to forehead.

The song bleeds into the next one, the two of them just sitting in the quiet. Finally, Evanna breaks the silence. “What time is it?” 

Isra glances down at her phone. “Uh, 21:21.” 

Evanna lights up suddenly. “I have a really great idea! Text Ely, we’re not going to the party.”

Isra raises an eyebrow, and Evanna’s laugh in response makes her feel lighter. “Where are we going, then?” 

Evanna looks ridiculous in her angel costume and she throws her arms wide. “Grab your coat, we’re getting on my bike.”

Isra laughs, grabbing her coat off of the back of the chair and slipping it on as Evanna did the same.

They go downstairs and get on Evanna’s bike, Evanna instructing her to hold on tight before promptly biking away.

Isra never really went out on her bike at night, but she had to admit there was something so _freeing_ about this moment, sitting here on the back of a bicycle, her hair flowing and her coat wrapped tightly around her as Oslo sped by around them.

 _(She figured a large part of that probably had to do with the girl sitting in front of her.)_  

After 15 minutes or so on the bike, Isra’s arms wrapped tightly around Evanna’s waist, Evanna pulls over in front of a white house. She steps off and Isra follows suit, letting the bike fall to the ground.

Evanna jumps down to start fiddling with the window that Isra can only assume is the basement. Isra raises an eyebrow. “Breaking an entering is your idea of an adventure?”

The lock clicks under Evanna’s hands and the window springs open. Evanna casts a glace back at her. “That didn’t sound like a no.”

Isra rolls her eyes in mock indignation as Evanna slides through the window.

Isra slides in after her into a humid room. _A fucking pool?_

Isra blinks. “Alright. So I know this isn’t your house.”

Evanna flashes her a smile as she toes off her shoes and Isra is starting to wonder if there’s any way that Evanna could ever look at her and Isra wouldn’t be rendered speechless.

_(Isra isn’t sure she wants that, anyhow.)_

Evanna slides off her jacket, tossing it on the ground and leaving her only in a _(tight, very tight)_ white shirt and the white skirt she had been wearing earlier. Evanna bends down and sticks her hand in the water, muttering something about how nice the temperature is. 

Isra blinks at her. “You’re fucking with me.”

Evanna mock-scoffs at her, a light grin on her face. “Me? Messing with you? I would never. I just felt like a light evening swim, is all." 

Isra rolls her eyes, toeing off her shoes and pulling off the offending koala ears and tossing them on the ground next to her. “I cant fucking believe you broke into a house to go swimming. It’s practically winter.”

“I didn’t know you were afraid of water.” Evanna challenges and _that’s it._

Isra stares at her in disbelief. “Me? Afraid of water.” 

“Or maybe just afraid of getting your hair wet. I can’t blame you, it’s very pretty.” Evanna’s hands are on her hips and it looks like a fucking challenge and Isra can’t resist shoving an arm out in an attempt to push Evanna into the pool.

Isra’s feeling pretty grateful that she left her phone at home because when she goes to shove Evanna into the pool, Evanna grabs her arm at the last second and pulls her in with her.

The water instantly surrounds her and the pool is deeper than she thought and Isra can feel her hair sticking to the sides of her face when she comes up for air. Evanna is grinning at her, something unreadable in her expression.

She feels exhilarated.

She feels like this is where she’s meant to be right now.

Evanna is inches from her, just as close as they had been in the kitchen.

“You suck at holding your breath,” Evanna gasps as the two of them tread water.

“Me?” Isra asks, and a bit of water splashes into her mouth. “Watch this.” 

In reality, she knows that she spends no time under at all, but going under gives her the opportunity to at least _try_ to fix her hair and when she comes up this time, at she comes straight up and at least now her hair isn’t plastered all over her forehead.

Evanna laughs as Isra comes up. “You never cease to impress me.”

“Fuck you! I got water in my lungs, okay?”

“Okay,” Evanna says, not believing her at all.

“I can’t believe you don’t believe me!”

“How about we try it together?” Isra nods, and Evanna holds up three fingers. 

“On three?” Isra nods.

“One-“

“Last one to the surface is the winner-“

“Two-" 

Isra breathes in-

“Three!”

Being underwater is surreal. Isra has to reach up and pull down her shirt, but other than that her and Evanna are just staring at each other through the foggy blue haze.

Evanna is staring at her with an unreadable expression before suddenly moving closer- 

Isra doesn’t know what to do when suddenly Evanna’s lips are on hers because everything inside her is screaming that this is _wrong_ and _Evanna has a boyfriend_ but also –

But also nothing else has ever felt so right. 

She goes up to the surface as swipes her hair out of her eyes as Evanna pumps a fist as she comes up.

“Winner! I told you so, Valtersen.” And Isra doesn’t even question how Evanna knows her last name despite the fact that Isra _knows_ she never told her it- 

“Alright, fine. Rematch. You cheated.”

“I cheated?” 

“ _Yes!”_

Evanna laughs, and Isra thinks that if she could die right now, she’d die the happiest she’s ever been in her life.

They go back under and this time, Isra’s lips find hers.

They come up as one. 

Isra can barely breathe and she’s caught between feeling like she’s suffocating and like everything in her life finally makes _sense_ for once, because she’s in some random person’s pool, yes, but she’s kissing a girl, but not just any girl, _Evanna Bech Næsheim,_ a girl who was not only a girl, but a girl who was at least (maybe?) even slightly into other girls and a girl who, judging by her hands and her grip on Isra was at _least_ a little bit interested in kissing her back and- 

And everything was all right, for once. 

She didn’t feel like a liar.

  
She didn’t feel like a fraud.

She just felt like herself.

Isra doesn’t know how long they stood there just kissing, but Isra’s hair is feeling more than a little dry by the time she finally comes back to their surroundings and- 

And there is a _literal red head child standing feet from them._

“Evanna.” Isra breathes, her eyes fixated on this kid because _holy fuck they broke into a house and the people ARE HOME-_

Which is when, of course, the girl starts screaming at full volume.

“Fuck.” Evanna says.” “ _Fuck!”_ She yells, swimming towards the side of the pool. Isra fills dazed but she snaps out of it, quickly swimming afterwards. 

Evanna’s already climbed back out the window by the time that Isra has her clothes in a ball and she throws them up towards Evanna, who grabs them. She eyes the window, easily six inches or so outside of her reach. 

 _“Fuck_ ,” she mutters, before backing up two steps and making a jump at the wall, grabbing onto the top with her hands. 

She tries to lever herself up and Evanna grabs the arms at her elbows, pulling them the rest of the way up. 

Oslo is _freezing_ and the two of them are wet and barely dresses but Evanna is yelling at her to hop on the bike and she can hardly refuse.

Isra holds on to the balled up clothes as Evanna bikes a block or two over and then stops, dropping the bike on the ground as they both step off. They’re lit only by a dim streetlight, both cast in an eerie glow that just serves to make everything feel more magical.

They just stare at each other until Isra bursts out laughing and Evanna follows suit.

“ _I can’t believe you just broke into some fucking random house-“_

 _“_ Excuse me, _you_ followed, okay, I’m not taking the whole blame for this-“ 

Isra looks up and Evanna is grinning and the two of them are so ridiculously, _absurdly_ soaked and Isra can’t even believe she’s in this situation. 

Evanna goes quiet across from her.

“Hey,” Isra says. 

“Hey.”

Isra walks the step or two over to Evanna so the two are standing only inches apart. “You know,” she nearly whispers, speaking only for the two of them, “in the past, I’ve gotten comments indicative of my kissing skills.” 

Evanna lets out a laugh and quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Isra nods. “Mhm. And I was wondering if you could share your opinion on that?”

“Oh, well, you know, I don’t think I’ve done enough research on the matter to have conclusive results, Ms. Valtersen.”

Isra pointedly ignores the way that Evanna saying her name _does things_ to her. “Oh year?”

Evanna smiles, hooking an arm around her waist. “I think I need a bit more time to do some research, don’t you? I mean, before I can make a thorough, accurate conclusion on your kissing skills” 

“Mhm.” Isra affirms, reaching across to give Evanna a quick peck on the lips. “Want to come back to mine? I just restocked my stash.”

“Hm, a pretty face, intelligent mind, _and_ a weed stash? You’re quite the girl, Isra Valtersen.”

In the dark of the park, completely alone, Isra doesn’t hesitate, and throws an arm around Evanna’s neck to pull her closer. “I could say the same about you, Evanna Bech Næsheim.”

Evanna just laughs in response and kisses her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends. surprise finals + full time summer job so i can go abroad next year + summer class so I can double major and graduate on time + writing is a lot BUT I've got the balance down now. also I don't care if it takes til I'm 40 I'm literally writing this fic til it's done. I don't know if wallet holders are a thing anywhere not in the US but I've gotten 5 of them free from various things throughout the past year so I figure they must be at least a little popular?
> 
> carrie & lowell is my depression album lmao I drove around listening to it for three hours last thursday night. i can't say that it made me feel better but it made me feel less alone and that's gotta mean something.
> 
> TDJLUS - playlist version https://open.spotify.com/user/frutescence/playlist/23gWLXyVchgZGoYdYOmgsw
> 
> Anthems - playlist version https://open.spotify.com/user/frutescence/playlist/4QDem9YD00NoWiu8LfUBDG (I'm gonna be completely honest I made this playlist in 10 minutes from a variety of pride / sex playlists)
> 
> Song list (we're gonna start adding more songs)  
> 1\. STRFKR - Girls Just Wanna Have Fun  
> 2\. Kylie Minogue - Can't Get You Out of My Head - empty room version
> 
> I'm not happy about the end of this so I might come back and fix it. i still need to fix ch 7 & 8 but they're almost done. I hope everyone has a really great week and I promise I'm gonna speed up the updates <3 love u guys


	10. good people do bad things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bike home quietly, willing to let the night air chill their goose-bumped skin, warmed only at the point where Isra’s arm is currently wrapped around Evanna’s waist.
> 
> Isra only allows herself a moment to freak out when she’s home, sitting in her bathroom under the guise of getting changed and trying to get some of the chlorine, Evanna sitting on her bed a room over.
> 
> A moment of panic, overwhelmed by the sheer adrenaline rush she’s still feeling in this moment.
> 
> [SKAM 3.05]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time no see (if there's anyone out there still reading this)!
> 
> As always, more notes and longer CW descriptions at the end of the chapter
> 
> CW: Underaged alcohol consumption and drug use, anxiety (discussion of breathing issues), throwing up from stress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unwanted sexual contact. As always, descriptions in the end notes!

They bike home quietly, willing to let the night air chill their goose-bumped skin, warmed only at the point where Isra’s arm is currently wrapped around Evanna’s waist.

Isra only allows herself a moment to freak out when she’s home, sitting in her bathroom under the guise of getting changed and trying to get some of the chlorine, Evanna sitting on her bed a room over.

A moment of panic, overwhelmed by the sheer adrenaline rush she’s still feeling in this moment.

She’ll worry about it _(the connotations of a girl in her room, the connotations of making out with a girl in a stranger’s pool at 22:30, the aftermath of ditching Eli and Sondre at hers)_ in the morning.

When she comes out of the bathroom, Evanna’s already sitting on her bed, and she pats the space next to her silently as if to ask, _what are you waiting for?_

*

 _“You don’t know how to roll?” Evanna laughed. Her forehead crinkled adorably when she did that, and it might actually kill Isra soon._

_“What! I have a bowl. My best friend makes bongs. I don’t need to roll.”_

_Evanna laughs again, and moves to get up from Isra’s bed. “No, no, don’t worry, I’ll show you.”_

_The two of them move over to Isra’s desk, with Isra hastliy moving discarded books and old assignments on to the floor below as Evanna grins and makes a comment about ‘creative genius’._

_Hands on hands. Skin on skin. Evanna’s breath mere centimeters above Isra’s ear as Evanna guides her hands._

_Isra doesn’t really listen, just spends half the time fixated on how Evanna’s chest is pressed against her back, her arms over her, Evanna’s hair is still a little wet from the shower she took a little while ago and Isra can feel it dripping down onto the shoulder of her shirt, making a small wet spot there._

_“…So, after you’ve made the filter, you just pack it…okay, great, now you just want to roll the j…you want the gummed side up, okay, that’s that sticky bit at the top- “_

_“I can’t believe you fucking brought all this shit with you-“ Isra mutters._

_Evanna swats at her shoulder playfully. “I always bring my rolling shit when I think I might be smoking with pretty girls. Are you telling me you don’t think this is hot?_

_Isra rolls her eyes and Evanna laughs, and Isra elects to ignore the faint blush she’s positive is on her face._

*          *          *

She might never actually get the smell of marijuana out of her duvet after today.

_(It’s worth it.)_

_((She almost died laughing when Evanna was focusing so hard on trying to look cool that she dropped some of the ash into her eye.))_

*          *          *

One joint fades into another and they move to the bed at some point, alternating between shot gunning and just kissing and just smoking. 

At some point, the evening sky gives way to the orange glow of dawn.

Neither of them makes a move to leave her bed.

*          *          *

 _“[…Yeah there’s so much history in these streets…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChWCMCt9Sy4)”_

“Do you ever think about leaving?”

“Hm?” Isra’s tucked under Evanna’s arm, her arm slung over Evanna’s chest and adjusts slightly so that she can look up at her.

“About leaving.”

“Oslo?”

“Yeah. And just saying fuck it. Going anywhere.”

“Sometimes. When everything just feels like…too much.” 

“Too much?”

“Yeah. You know? Like you spend so much time pretending to be someone you’re not. You have moments when you’re not sure where Fake You ends and Real You begins.”

Evanna quirks an eyebrow at her “Maybe they’re the same person.”

“Maybe one day, yeah. Not now, I don’t think. But sometimes I’m like, fuck it. What if I just picked up one day and left. Go to Auckland or Athens or Cape Town or something. Be someone new, you know? The person you didn’t- or couldn’t - be get be before you left.”

“Huh.”

“No one knows anything about you. Not your name, not your family bullshit, not your fucking tragic backstory or whatever. Just you…existing.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah.”

*          *          *

“…My sister’s a weirdo, but I love her. Do you have any siblings?” 

“No. Only child. My parents tried, a couple of times but were never successful.”

“That sucks.”

“Do you have any?”

“…Mm. I have four.” 

“ _Four?!”_

Evanna laughs. They’re both still high, and the sound of Evanna’s laugh makes Isra smile in her blissed-out state, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah, four. Three sisters and a brother.”

“Tell me about them.”

Isra doesn’t have to look to her to hear the smile in her voice. “My older sister is 28. She’s technically my half-sister. Previous relationship of my dad’s. She lives in the States. She’s in a band with her boyfriend, they both went to university for music.” 

“Really? Are they any good?”

“Eh. They’re okay. Then there’s my younger twin siblings, Elli and Felix, they’re 9. Youngest is Thea, who’s 5, now.

“Are they your, uh,” Isra scrambles for the right word. “Full siblings?”

“Oh yeah. My sister’s parents never married. Her mom’s from the States and she gave my _pappa_ full custody. He met my _mamma_ three years later and then got married four years after that, I think. She legally adopted Adri when she was like, maybe ten? I think Adri doesn’t talk to her mother particularly often but she has extended family she goes and visits on occasion.” 

“Huh. Very chill.” 

“The chilliest.”

“It sounds like fun, all those siblings.” 

“It’ll certainly make for a _wicked_ group chat once the younger ones get phones.” 

*          *          * 

[ _“…And if you saw my love_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmna7G4JUyY)

_You'd love her too…”_

 

“Isra?’

“Hm?”

“Have you ever kissed a girl before today?”

“Never anything serious.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.  
  
“Have you?”

“Never anyone that mattered.” 

*          *          *

They spend the weekend like that.

First encounters. First kisses. Random facts. Random tidbits that itch the way to the surface of her skin, tiny bits about her friends and the people her family used to be. Who she wants to be. Things she hasn’t thought about in years.

Parallel universes. Different curtains. Some film that Evanna loves and Isra would probably hate. 

 _“Life is a movie…and you can be the director of your own life.”_

_(Eskild knocks on the door at one point and Isra still worms her way out of that explanation as easily as breathing.)_

_(She’s not ready to admit that. Not yet.)_

_“Okay okay okay. Good story.”_

_Isra laughs. “You can have it. Make a movie.” It doesn’t feel momentous but it’s probably the bravest thing she’s ever said. Put herself out in the open like this and told another person to have it. Take her story and make it into art._

Sondre calls, and reality comes crashing down.

*          *          *

The next morning, Evanna leaves.

Isra wakes up alone to a drawing on her bed.

It’s two panels, two drawings of her, labeled _A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE._

She sighs, tucks the picture into her bedside drawer and pulls a hoodie off the ground and throws it on.

Isra flings open her door to see…Noora? Attempting to scrub the wall with a sponge.

Somehow, this isn't the weirdest thing that she's ever woken up to. 

Isra blinks at her for a second before saying anything. “Is there…any particularly reason why you’re scrubbing the wall like that?”

“I’m just – _I’m cleaning.”_

“ _God morg!”_ Eskild practically yells, moving into her field of vision. He throws an arm around Isra’s shoulders.

Isra glances back to Noora. “The wall?”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, so.” Eskild stumbles. “Hei! Hello Isra!  Good morning!”

“Good…morning?” She just woke up and she already feels like there’s some sort of inside joke here that she just isn’t understanding. 

“So, uh- that girl – Evanna? She seems really cool.” Eskild says it casually but the way he’s staring at her makes her feel like the way her whole body suddenly stills must be more obvious than she thinks.

Noora’s given up on pretending to clean the wall and is now facing her. “Oh.” Isra’s voice squeaks out much higher than she anticipated and she nearly winces. “You met her?” 

“Yeah. Yeah! Uh, in the bathroom this morning.” He glances at Noora, as if she could confirm his story. “So, uh – who is she?”

Her throat feels tight because _if only she knew._ “She’s, uh- she’s just a friend of mine. From school.”

Eskild looks like he’s fighting a grin. Isra ducks out from under Eskild’s arm and slowly reaches for the doorknob behind her. “Okay.” 

Isra nods. “Okay. Yeah. Mhm.” And promptly shuts the door in their faces as Eskild hollers at her to come back out. 

*          *          * 

_Til Evanna Kosegruppa (Søndag 15:32:17)_

_Nice drawing. Pick up your phone._

_Fra Evanna Kosegruppa (Søndag 21:21:21)_

_I’m sorry. Really busy day, I’ve been swimming at my aunt’s place. Just kidding. Let’s talk tomorrow._

_Fra Evanna Kosegruppa (Søndag 21:23:11)_

_You look hot when you’re sleeping_

*          *          *

 

Isra looks for Evanna at school the next day and tries not to let it bother her as much as it does when she can’t find her.

She goes outside, pulling her beanie down her head slightly until she finds the boys in the courtyard. It’s starting to get cold out and she wraps her jacket tighter around her.

They’re talking about something random that she’s never heard about before, something that probably happened over the weekend that involved _Katterhooken_ blowing up so much until Isra got annoyed and finally put it on mute, not bothering to read any of the messages.

Until she remembers and-  
  
“ _Fuck,”_ she nearly yells, her eyes widening. “It was your birthday this weekend.” 

Magnus tries and fails to give her a smile that she could tell from a mile away is fake. “Yeah.” 

He’s looking at her like he expects some kind of excuse but she struggles to come up with anything.

“Fuck- I just – but hey! Congrats, you’re 17!” She exclaims, moving forward to give Magnus a hug. 

It’s awkward and uncomfortable and they’re all better off once it ends. 

“I had this, uh – family thing.” She says, answering the question that none of them asked in the first place and she wants to punch herself.

Jonas and Mahdi don’t even have the decency to pretend like they believe her anymore.

“But hey! What happened?” She looks around, faking a smile and desperately trying to change the subject. 

Magnus glances at the boys before glancing back to her. “Jonas and Mahdi hooked me up with Vilde.”

Isra’s eyes widen in surprise. “No fucking way! Did you guys hook up?”

Magnus shook his head. “Nah. Almost, though.”

Jonas snorts. “ _Almost?”_

“It was close, what the fuck-“ 

“Sure Magnus, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.” Jonas shrugged.

Isra couldn’t help but glace between her friends, all laughing easily. She felt out of place.

“Nah, it’s just – it’s a long story, Isra. Don’t worry about it.”

Somehow, that didn't stop her from worrying. She spent the rest of the day thinking about it. 

 

*          *          * 

She checks her phone, later. Dozens of missed calls and messages.

_Lørdag 29.10.16 at 4.52pm_

_Mahdi: Magnus and I are coming to you now yeay_  
Jonas: Did you get the beer?  
Mahdi: Yeah yeah relax  
Jonas: Where are you?  
Jonas: Isra is MIA yo

 _Lørdag 29.10.16 at 7.48pm_ _  
Jonas: What’s up Is? We’re leaving for a party in Ullevåll now, call us_

 _Søndag 30.10.16 at 11.32am_  
Magnus: Yesterday was fucking awesome  
Mahdi: Happy birthday broooo  
Jonas: Fave birthday boy  
Magnus: Thankss

Shit. She writes out a message really fast.

_Mandag 30.10.16 at 9.32pm_

_Isra: Shit. I didn’t see this until now. Sorry. I didn’t have 3G_  
Isra: Let’s do it again this weekend ya?  
_Jonas: *thumbs up*_

*          *          * 

_Til Evanna Kosegruppa (Tirsdag 20:19:52)_

_What’s up with you never being at school, I hope you don’t fuck up the 10%. Wanna hang?_

*          *          *

 

Evanna doesn’t text back. Whatever. It’s fine.

It’s not like she’s _bothered_ by it. Even if it has been a few days.

Really, it's  _fine._

*        *          * 

She’s messing around with a football in gym because even though her sports days may be behind her, she still needs this class for credit so she has to at least do _something._

And, well. She hadn’t really had time to play football since before her mother got sick. She missed it a little bit, if she was being honest. 

Isra spends 10 minutes juggling the ball back and forth until she messes up. She goes to grab the ball, glances up, and sees Evanna. 

She’s standing in the doorway, still layered in her clothes from outside. Isra stares at her for a few seconds, wondering why she’s here when she hasn’t texted her back or anything when Evanna quirks an eyebrow before doing the thing where she walks backwards away from her.

Isra waits only a second before following Evanna. 

Evanna moves into the locker room, littered with sweaters and bags strewn haphazardly on the floor and the old wooden benches that creak under any sort of weight.

Isra stops just inside of the doorway, staring at her. “Hi.” 

“Hey.”

Isra takes a couple steps closer but the silence hangs between them like a chasm. Evanna’s wrapped in multiple layers and must be overheating. Isra’s suddenly feeling very hot in her running shorts and long sleeve shirt.

They’re only a foot or two at most away from each other now. “Where have you been?” She asks, voice quiet. 

Evanna glances up and down her face before focusing on a spot on the ground. “I, uh. I told Sondre. About you.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah.” Evanna swallows, glances up hesitantly before deciding to continue. “The two of us have decided to take a break.”

Isra swallows, trying to keep the panic and surprise and utter _shock_ off of her face. Evanna’s expression is unreadable.

“What do you think about that?” Evanna speaks up after a moment.

“I…” she struggles to find the right words. “I think it’s great.”

Evanna breaths out a laugh. “Yeah?” and Isra’s sure for a second that she must have fucked up.

“Or, uh, if it makes you sad, then, you know, I’m really sorry and- and I hope it’s not my fault.”

Evanna stares at her for a second before a smile breaks out across her face, giving the other girl an incredulous look. “Sad? I’m not sad!?”

“No?”

“No,” Evanna smiles, before crossing the distance and pressing her lips against Isra’s. The two stay like that for a moment, foreheads and noses touching. 

They bask in the quiet for a moment, just the two of them, oblivious to the world around them before Evanna speaks up. 

“What do you think your parents would say, if you started dating me?”

Isra’s heart jumps into her throat because _fuck._

_Dating?!?!  
_

_PARENTS???????????????????_

She can’t make eye contact for a second. Picks a spot on the wall and stares at it. “I…think that that would be okay. I don’t know.” 

Evanna quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Evanna seems dissatisfied so Isra tries to come up with some way to fix it. “Or, uh. My dad probably wouldn’t mind.” _It’s not his fucking place to hate her when he’s the one that abandoned them to begin with._

“But your mom would?”

Isra sighs. “She’s um. I don’t know. She’s insane.”

Something minute changes in Evanna in a blink-and-you-miss it moment. Isra doesn’t really register it, too fixated on her parents. “In what way?”

“She-“ _fuck,_ she feels the corner of her eyes stinging because there’s absolutely nothing she would love more than to introduce her mother to Evanna. “No. It’s a surreal situation. She thinks the world is about to end constantly. Like, yelling about rapture and salvation. And that my uncle is Donald Trump.” _And that the demons living inside of us can be burned out, that none of us are ever truly saved at all._ “My uncle is not Donald Trump.” She says, still trying to calm the panic threatening to worm its way further up her chest because _talking_ about her mom does this to her.

“Phew. Okay.” Evanna says, but something still seems off about the whole situation.

Isra’s desperate to change the conversation. “But anyways. Yeah. I’m sure as you noticed I’m not even living at home right now. It’s neither of their fucking concerns what I do or who I’m seeing.”

Evanna nods a bit to herself. “So, you don’t keep in touch anymore?” 

“No. None of us ever really got along, and I decided my life would be better without mentally ill people around.” Isra regrets it the second she says it because she _misses her mom_ but there’s nothing to be done for that now, desperate to show Evanna that she’s _normal._  

Evanna blinks for a few moments, not speaking. 

“What do you think your parents would have said about me?” Isra asks after a few moments, trying to get back whatever it is that they lost.  

The bell rings around them. Evanna reaches her right hand up to touch Isra’s face, tucking the blonde hairs that had fallen forward back behind her ear. 

“I think they’d love you.” She says, pulling Evanna in for a kiss.

People begin to rush in, and the two of them separate quickly.

*          *          * 

Isra’s sitting at her desk doing her homework when she fucking drops her pen in surprise because she realizes that it’s the first Thursday and _motherfucking OD is tomorrow and she doesn’t have a job lined up._

She pulls up her phone and quickly begins texting people.

 

_Wednesday 02.11.16 at 6.45pm_

_Kollektivet_

_Isra: Hi. We have OD on Thursday. I need a job._

_Isra: Can anyone help me please?_

_Isra: gotta earn that money for charity, yo. Can’t do that without a job._

_Isra: How will I help students in other nations be educated with an operasjon dagsverk job?_

_Noora: Where’s my blender_

_Eskild: Noora, right now it’s Isra’s turn to get help_

_Eskild: One at a time ladiez_

_Linn: How much do you need to earn?_

_Isra: 400 kr_

_Linn: I’ll hire you_

_Noora: lol_

_Linn: It’s my time to clean this week, you can do it_

_Isra: Easy_

_Noora: I cleaned already. And you haven’t filled your cleaning duties since 1998._

_Eskild: Noora mind your tone, Linn was barely born at that time so it’s a little unrealistic_

_Linn: So then I don’t have to clean_

_Eskild: You can work for PK <3 PK is the best_

_Linn: PK!!_

_Isra: Who the hell is PK?_

_Noora: The caretaker. Eskild and Linn have a weird relationship with him._

_Eskild: He was here on Saturday. You could have met him if you didn’t stay in your room all weekend!!!_

_Isra: Can you text me his number?_

Eskild texts her his number and Isra quickly shoots off a text to him.

_Til PK Caretaker (Onsdag 2.11.16 @ kl. 19:22)_

_Hei PK! I’m Isra, I live with Eskild and Linn. OD is tomorrow, is there any way I could work for you?_

He texts back a few minutes later. 

 _Fra PK Caretaker (Onsdag 2.11.16 @ kl. 19:29)_

_Hei Isra! Sure. Lots of fall maintenance to be done. Meet by the entrance tomorrow @ 830. See you then!_

 

*          *          *

 

_Wednesday 2.11.16 at 9.28pm_

_Magnus: Motherfucking OD_

_Magnus: I don’t have a job_

_Magnus: What happens if I don’t work_

_Isra: I just got a job with my building’s caretaker_

_Magnus: LOL_

_Jonas: OD is important though. Come on. Find a job Magnus._

_Isra: Magnus why do you hate disadvantaged kids?_

_Magnus: Ooooh I’m Jonas and I love idealism and I read The Class Struggle and I don’t like plastic and I skate on a skateboard made from sustainable wood and I wear old clothes because new clothes are bad for the environment and I only drink recycled water._

_Magnus: And I’m his best friend Isra, and I haven’t read a book for fun since I was six_

_Mahdi: That was a bad diss Mags, these are just facts_

_Magnus: Okay how about this: OOO I’m Jonas. I smoke weed financed by war and terror. BAM. Done. Isra, drop the mic_

_Isra: whatever at least I have a JOB_

_Jonas: Yeah yeah yeah. Absolutely right Magnus. That’s why we have OD. War and terror is fucked. Just think of someone else for once_

_Magnus: <3 Mom <3 will find a job for me_

_Magnus: But I need something to look forward to this weekend. What’s up?_

*          *          *

 

It turns out that PK is a sweet, elderly man who’s been in charge of building maintenance for the last 17 years. She spends hours sweeping off stairs and cleaning the building’s hallway.

Isra’s back fucking _hurts_ from cleaning stairs all day for PK who, in the end, is nice enough. She snaps a pic towards the end, broom covering half of her face. It’s a dumb picture but her hair looks good so she posts it anyways.

 **_(Instagram) israyaki (3.11.16 17:52) : OD Day_ ** **_✓_ **

At the end of the day, PK slides her 500 kr and a cup of tea in a disposable. “What brings you to the building, anyways? I know everyone in this building, yet I’ve never met you before. 

Isra takes a sip of the tea. “I moved in recently. I’m living with Linn and Eskild.”

PK nods, taking a sip of his own tea. “Are you still in school?”

“Year two.” PK hums gently to himself.

Isra feels the need to justify himself. “Eskild is a friend. I was having some problems at home and he offered to let me stay for a while.”

PK nodded. “That’s just like Eskild. He’s always had a thing for taking in strays.” He glances up at her and gives her a small smile. “Thank you for the work today, my dear. If you’re ever short on cash or are looking for a quick job to do, don’t hesitate to text! This building maintenance is getting to be a bit too much for this man in his old age.” 

Isra smiles at the prospect of potentially having some regular extra income. “ _Takk,_ I’ll be sure to text.”

As she’s walking back to their apartment, she checks her phone again. No new messages. 

*          *          *

Thursday night she’s sitting in bed, feeling exhausted and restless because she’s just never felt as excited as she felt about _whatever it was_ she has with Evanna.

(Her pillow still smells like her.)

Isra takes out her phone, shooting off a quick text to Evanna.

 

_Til Evanna Kosegruppa (Torsdag 3.11.16 @ kl. 17:15)_

_Hei!  Spent 6 hours today cleaning stairs and OD day is officially killing me. What have you been up to today?? It was nice seeing you today, wanna hang soon?_

 

“Helloooooooo Isra.” Eskild says lightly from the open doorway, edging his way into her room.

“Hei Eskild.” Isra says, not bothering to move from her position in bed. 

Eskild smiles at her, walking over to join her on the bed. “I’ve brought you a present, since you were a model child and paid your rent today.”

Isra quirks an eyebrow, “You have a present for me?” 

Eskild scoffs at her in mock-anger. “Do you want it or not?”

Isra can’t help but smile, glance down at the corner of her bed. “Sure.”

Eskild grins at her. “Pick a hand.”

“Left.”

Eskild stares at her for a second. “You can pick the other one.” 

Isra can’t help but smile at him, for real this time. “I’ll take the right one, then.” 

Eskild widens his mouth in fake surprise as he moves to sit next to her on her bed. He hands something to her. “ _It’s an air freshener!!!”_ Eskild claps his hands in small excitement. “It’s a nice lavender fragrance. Though, you really should think about what I told you. Buy some plants. Curb that _weed_ smell. Start out with a cactus if you’re really scared you’ll kill them. Some gardenias, some jasmine…”

“-Thanks Eskild.” Isra says, trying to contain her giggling. “Very thoughtful.”

Eskild beams. “Thank you. I’m assuming it will come in handy in case you get any more visits from that cute girl Evanna.” Eskild’s eyes widen a bit, realizing he might have overstepped, seemingly cautious about boundaries for once. “Or whatever her name is. I don’t know. It’s your life.”

Isra stares at a point on the wall. _Now or never. 30 seconds of courage._ “Eskild?”

“Hm?”

“There’s, well. There’s uh. A thing. Maybe. Between me and Evanna. The girl you met. We’re doing stuff. I don’t know.” 

Isra moves to get off the bed, but Eskild grabs her arm and gently tugs her back onto the bed before she can fully escape. “Hey, you don’t say? Hey, that’s. That’s awesome, Isra. Congrats. Good for you.”

Isra stares at him. “You’re not surprised?” 

Eskild just gives her a look. “Honey. When I met you, you were sitting alone in a gay bar getting hit on at 2 in the morning and you just kept talking about how you didn’t want to go home-“

“ _I told you, I didn’t know it was a gay bar-“_

Eskild holds up a hand to stop her. “Whatever you say.”

Isra takes a deep breath. _30 seconds is over._ But – “That doesn’t mean I’m gay though.”

He gives her some look that Isra can’t get a read on. “That doesn’t matter. The most important thing is that you’ve found someone you like. There’s nothing wrong with being gay, or a lesbian, or bi or anything for that matter.” 

“That doesn’t – I’m not like, _gay gay_ though.” It slips out before she can stop it and she briefly contemplates ramming her head as hard as possible against the nearest wall but she’s feeling that slight panic creep up from her stomach into her chest and she _really cannot be having a panic attack right here right now._

“Okay? That’s fine. I don’t know what you mean, but whatever.”

“I’m not, like, _like you._ Or like any of the others. The 'Tinder Randos’, whatever.” 

Eskild raises both eyebrows in surprise, clearly measuring words in an effort to suppress a growing anger. “Oh yeah? And what is it that I’m like?”

“You know.”

Eskild leans back, an edge of hostility creeping into his posture. “No I don’t. Tell me.”

“I mean, you talk loudly about how much dick you’re sucking, you bitch about the Kardashians all day long and you give people lavender air fresheners and go on about the importance of good house plans and like I completely respect that you go _all in_ on the gay-gay thing but that’s – I just – I’m not like that.”

Isra can’t even meet Eskild’s eyes. She wants to throw up. 

“There’s no gay thing, Isra. I’m just trying to be myself.” Eskild sounds hurt. _I did this to him._  

She closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. “Eskild. I didn’t mean-“ 

“You didn’t mean it. Yeah. Sure, Isra. Because you’re completely yourself.” 

 _Fuck, that hurt._ “What I mean is – I don’t know. Just cause I’m seeing a girl doesn’t mean I’m one of those people.“ 

Eskild looks at her and gives a humorless laugh. “Yeah, Isra. Listen – those people? Who you so adamantly are afraid to be associated with? Those that wear tights and mascara at Pride or whoever – they went out and fought for the right to be who they are. They’re people who, throughout the years, have chosen to endure harassment and hate. They’re been beaten and killed. And it’s not because they’re so desperate to be different. It’s because they’d rather be dead that pretend to be someone they’re not.” Isra looks down, ashamed.

Eskild doesn’t stop. “That, Isra? That requires courage on a whole different level than most people will understand in their lifetimes. And I – I think that before you’ve fought those battles for yourself, before you’ve dared to stand up for who you are, you should be really fucking careful about crass comments putting yourself above all the other gays in Oslo.”

Isra can’t meet Eskild’s eyes, and elects to stare at the edge of her comforted instead as she feels tears prick her eyes. _She won’t cry._ “Eskild, I didn’t mean that-”

“Yeah, Isra, you did. And I don’t really want to talk to you right now.

  
 She glances up, and Eskild looks genuinely, seriously _hurt_ and tears threatened to spill over because the last thing she wanted to do was hurt the only person who really _knew. “_ So you can sit here and think about what I’ve just told you.” Eskild stands up and leaves, not sparing her a second glance. He shuts the door behind him on the way out.

She feels the panic rising in her throat and she can’t help but press the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing. _5 in, hold for 3, 5 out._

Her phone beeps with a text as hot tears begin to fall down her face.

 

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 3.11.16 17:17:22)_

_Hi. It was nice to see you too. I don’t really know, but maybe things have been moving too quickly._

_Fra Evanna (Torsdag 3.11.16 17:17:33)_

_I know it’s my fault, but I need some time._

Isra clutches at her ribs as her shoulder start to shake and a sob rips its way out of her throat. Isra grabs her phone off of her nightstand, stalking into the bathroom. She jams her phone into the speaker so no one can hear her crying, and promptly throws up from the stress of it all, sobbing over the toilet. 

Her Spotify plays up the next queued song and she could almost laugh at the irony if she didn’t feel like she might actually be dying.

How could she be so _stupid?_ Why couldn’t she do anything without _hurting people?_

Why did everything always _hurt so much?_

 

_“…[Take me to your best friend's house](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwB-iVAfnMo)_

[ _Marmalade, we're making out_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwB-iVAfnMo)

[ _Oh yeah_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwB-iVAfnMo)

_Take me to your best friend's house_

_I loved you then and I love you now_

_Don’t leave me tongue tied_

_Don’t wave no goodbye_

_Don’t…”_

*          *          *

 

Friday 4.11.16 at 5.15pm

 

_Magnus: GENTLEMEN_

_Magnus: and isra I guess_

_Magnus: THE NIGHT IS YOUNG_

_Magnus: Pregame at mine mine mine mine mine mine mine_

_Jonas: Are you alone?_

_Mahdi: Wanna host a party?_

_Magnus: Hosting a party is stressful_

_Mahdi: So what’s happening?_

_Jonas: We’ll figure it out_

_Jonas: I’m in_

_Mahdi: Let’s do it_

_Jonas: Issy?_

_Isra: I’ll bring the booze_

Friday 4.11.16 at 8.45pm

_Isra: BTW – vodka & fireball r the drinks for tonight ladzzzzz_

*          *          *

 

Isra regrets agreeing to go out almost the exact second she shows up at Magnus’s pregame. 

She put on what she often regards as her best house party outfit  since she had a feeling that the guys were going to find a party for them to go to. She did her makeup. Wore a maroon off-the-shoulder crop top and a black skirt. _If_ she saw Evanna, in some kind of universe fuckery, then at least she’d look _nice,_ and Evanna could think about _that._  

( _Eskild calls it her revenge outfit, and that’s a though she quickly pushes out of her head. She still hasn’t apologized, can’t think of the right words to truly explain the remorse she feels. It hurts to think about him right now.)_

Magnus’s family are nowhere to be found, as usual. Isra’s got a sizeable bottle of 80-proof vodka that cost her much more than she could afford and a small container of Fireball shoved into the pocket of her parka.

Magnus groans when she walks in. _“Liquor? Really? ”_ Mahdi and Jonas must be somewhere in the living room.   

She shoves the bag of liquor into his chest. “Beer is for pussies and you fucking know it.”

Magus pulls out the bottle as Isra heads into the kitchen, already pulling down several glasses. “You bought fucking _80 proof vodka?_ Isra, I take back what I said earlier. You’re a goddess. Let's get married.”

Isra walks over to her fridge, making a face at Magnus as she pulls out two bottles of soda. “Gross, Mags. You’re not my type.” She pops open the freezer, grabbing a few of the ice cubes and popping them into one of the glasses. She holds her hand out for the vodka, which Magnus dutifully hands off. 

Jonas and Mahdi come in at their commotion. “You bought 80 proof vodka?!” Jonas accuses her, giving her a sharp look. 

Isra rolls her eyes, grabbing both her glass and the vodka bottle itself, spinning a bit to move around Jonas in the tight kitchen. “Relax, _mom_. I’ll be responsible.” 

Jonas nearly snorts. “Yeah, whatever. I’m not carrying your trashed ass home again.” 

Isra plops down in a chair, taking a swig of her drink. “First of all, I’m not going to get _trashed._ Unlike some people,” she pointedly looks at Magus, “I _know_ how to handle my liquor. Second of all, you would and we all know it.”

Jonas rolls his eyes but sighs fondly all the same.

*          *          *

 

Isra had though, maybe, _fuck,_ things could be better with a glass filled with two shots of 80 proof vodka.

Nope.

Similarly, the second glass filled with two _additional_ shots and a splash of Fireball for the spice also failed to make it better.

All the boys talk about is _girls_ and _having sex_ and they barely spare her a passing though as she sits there, content to glare off into the distance.

 _Fuck_ Evanna. _Fuck_ Eskild. Those two don’t know anything about her.

“Are we going out or what?” She asks nearly the second the clock turns to 22:30.

Jonas glances at his phone and then back at her. “It’s really early- “

“Do we even know what we’re doing yet?” Magnus popped up.

“Hold up.” Mahdi says, typing out something on his phone quickly. “Ely’s having a thing. Bunch of Bakka kids there too.” All three of them turn to her.

She slams her drink down on the corner of the glass table they’re sitting at. Magnus winces a bit. “No.”

_“Issy- “_

_“Is- “_

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on Isra, we’d do it for you!”

Isra rolls her eyes. “ _No._ Besides, I’m pretty sure Ely doesn’t want me there.”

Mahdi scoffs. “Are you serious? He’s all over you!” 

Isra stares at him in disbelief, unwillingly feels her face heat up.  “No he’s not! And he’s practically young enough to get me arrested.”

Jonas doesn’t say anything, just looks at her.

“Just shoot him a text, be like, ‘ _hey, what are you up to?’,_ something like that! Easy!” Magnus says, throwing an around her shoulders.

She shoves the arm off. “I’m not fucking doing this just to get us in to some shit party. Besides, that makes it sounds like I want to have sex with him and I _don’t!”_ She feels the unease start to settle into her panic.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before!” Mahdi says, and Isra think she’d be offended if she wasn’t so _stressed_ and really, she shouldn’t have even mentioned the possibility of sex with Ely _at all._

“Ugh, if it gets you guys to _shut up,_ fine.” She pulls out her phone, shoots Ely a quick _what are you up to?_ text, and begins to gather her things.

The other three just stare at her and she has the overwhelming urge to violently shake all of them by the shoulders.

“Really?” Magnus asks.

She grabs the bottle off the table, slipping it back into the plastic  bag next to it on the table. “Well, are you guys coming or am I going to this stupid party by myself?” 

*          *          * 

It’s cold and she’s not wearing enough layers for the weather but for a moment, walking through the streets of Oslo with her three best friends at her side, warmed by a bit too much Fireball and a little too much vodka, she feels _invincible._

She holds her hand out for the bottle Mahdi’s swinging and takes a pull, laughing at whatever joke he just made and everything feels _right._

In retrospect, that should have been a sign that shit was inevitably going to hit the fan.

*          *          *

 They roll up to the party and are met with the sight of some girl walking out without shoes on, flipping off a flabbergasted guy standing in the doorway.

Isra takes point, moving to the front of their little group.. They’ve done this countless of times. 

She’s ready for when the greasy-haired guy standing at the front of the door stops them all. “You can come in.” He says, glancing down at her. His gaze flickers over to the guys. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We’re just here for the party.” Isra says, smiling sweetly up at him. “This _is_ Ely’s house, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But were you _all_ invited?” The greasy-haired guy asks.

“Of course!” Isra says. “Why do you think we’re here?” 

Vilde, it turns out, is standing next to Greasy-Haired Guy and Isra can just _feel_ that Magnus is doing something weird behind her and she prays to all the gods she doesn’t believe him that he _stops._

“I mean,” Greasy-Haired Guy starts in, “I’m just a friend of Ely’s. Looking out for him, and everything.”

“Yeah, and we are too.” Isra says.

“What year are you guys in?” He asks, sizing them up.

“Just let them in, I know them.” Vilde chimes in, turning to look at Greasy-Haired Guy, and Vilde’s attempt to get them in doesn’t work but Isra is willing to give her major points for trying at all.

Some other guy with similarly bad hair shows up at the doorway. “I don’t know, you guys, it’s starting to fill up in here.”

Isra spots a familiar blonde girl behind him. _Evanna._

Fuck, she’s gotta get into this party, and she’s willing to leave the guys in the cold to do it.

Isra looks up at Greasy-Haired Guy. “Is there any way that I could go in and find Ely? My friends can wait outside here.”

The three of them pipe up behind her as Grease-hair moves aside. “Of course.”

He says something else that Isra doesn’t hear as she moves into the room, feeling desperate. 

Isra glances around, not registering any of the people she’s gently pushing until she finally sees her, standing at the edge of the third room she goes into which is so big that it has to be Ely’s living room.

Evanna’s wearing a flannel and leaning against the brick fireplace, talking to an unfamiliar blonde-haired girl sipping on a beer. Suddenly, Isra feels rooted to the spot. Why is she even _here_ when Evanna already told Isra that she didn’t want to talk to her?

This whole thing was a mistake.

Before she realizes it, someone’s standing in front of her. _Ely._

Fuck.

She swallows deeply, trying to force a smile at him and failing epically. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He demands, clearly annoyed.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She says, blinking at him. “It was-uh, it was...” _Shit fuck shit shit_ “It was shitty of us. On Halloween. That wasn’t cool.” She instantly wants to smack herself. _That’s the best you could come up with?_ “I get it if you think I’m a bitch. Or whatever.” 

Ely stares at her for a second. “I don’t care about Halloween. You know, Isra. I’ve heard a lot about you, even before we met.”

Isra can’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “Really?”

Ely nods, and Isra has a sinking feeling of dread about where this conversation is going. “Oh yeah. And I heard you dated that guy Anders for, what? A couple of months. And Anders and I are friends, but the way he describes that the two of you have sex… sounds like you’re _bored.”_ Isra can’t breathe. “Now, why would you and Anders, who, from what I hear, is a pretty attractive guy, have sex and then you’d be _bored?”_ Ely laughs. “And yeah, it’s possible that maybe, the poor dude is just bad at sex. It happens. But I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Isra doesn’t say anything, but Ely isn’t done. “I was thinking about that a couple of weeks ago. _Then,_ I remembered something else. See, one of my buddies use to always buy weed off of that guy Elias, that guy who moved to Sweden? And interestingly enough, my friend had heard that just before leaving town, you and Elias _fucked,_ and that Elias had felt similarly to our boy Anders. You were there the whole time just _bored._ ”

Ely takes a step closer so the two of them are eye to eye. Isra can’t breathe. “Now Isra, all this hype about you has got me wondering why a really _hot_ girl such as yourself would be _bored during sex.”_ He snakes a hand onto her ass and Isra debates chopping his whole arm off as he grabs it. He leans in to whisper in her ear. “I get you now, and I think you’re a bitch because you’re so _clearly_ a dyke, and you’re willing to tease everyone into oblivion in an effort to get them to believe that you’re not.”

He takes his hands off her and takes a step back. “It’s 2016, Isra. Get the fuck out of the closet.”

And then he’s gone. 

Isra closes her eyes, trying to fix her breathing so it’s back under control, but the panic is threatening to seep out from under her. She doesn’t know how long she spends just standing there as some obnoxious pop song that she doesn’t register plays in the background.

She looks up to find that Sondre has approached Evanna, and he’s got his arms wrapped around her and the two of them are making out against the wall.

Isra honestly, truly thinks she’s going to be sick.

She can only stand there and watch them for so long before she turns and is walking out the door, down the hallway, out the front door into Oslo night. 

_(She thinks Eva yells after her at one point but she can’t really hear through all the blood thrumming in her ears.)_

Isra feels numb.

She can't be here anymore. 

The guys are still standing by the front when she marches out. “I’m leaving.” She tells them, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself and marching down the steps, not looking back. 

“ _What?”_ Mahdi asks. 

“Isra, what the fuck?” Jonas grabs her arm as she tries to move past him. She yanks her arm out of his, turning to face him.

“I said, _I’m leaving.”_

Mahdi looks over at the boys. “Oh, it’s fine, she’s just probably just got a _family thing- “_

Isra pulls back from Jonas and looks at Mahdi with disbelief. Before she knows what she’s doing, she rushes forward, sharply shoving Mahdi against the wall.

“Fuck you Mahdi!” She nearly screams. “You don’t know _shit!”_

“It was a fucking _joke,_ Isra!” Mahdi yells, but she isn’t listening.

She fucking shoves him again and he doesn’t even fight back before suddenly Jonas and Magnus are between them, yelling and forcing space between the two of them.   

Jonas pulls her back. “ _Enough!”_ Jonas yells, looking between the two of them. He fixes her with a cold stare, and she doesn’t even _recognize_ him. “What the fuck’s up with you?” He asks, eyes wide. “Huh?””

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t think she knows how to speak right now. “What’s happening?!” Jonas demands.

Isra just stares at him for a moment before she turns and runs.

She doesn’t pay attention to the tears streaming down her face, inevitably running her makeup, or the way that her shoes are giving her a blister on the left heel, because she can feel the breath rushing out of her and she can’t stop thinking about how _happy_ Evanna had looked making out with her _boyfriend_ and Isra feels so, so, stupid for letting Evanna _play her like this_ and the fact that she fell for it and only has herself to blame. 

She stalks down the street, not paying attention to where she’s going, just needing to be somewhere, _anywhere,_ but there.

She kicks a bench and is pretty sure she breaks a toe but she doesn’t care enough to check.

She punches a tree at a different point in time, her knuckles coming away bloodied and ruined because she is feeling too much and not enough at the same time.

She’s several blocks away from the party and in the opposite direction of where she lives when she finally falls to the ground and lets the sobs overtake her.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW Descriptions:  
> Drug use: Evanna and Isra smoke weed and Evanna teaches Isra how to roll a joint  
> Underaged alcohol consumptions: the pregame in 3.05. Alcohol as a coping mechanism. 80 proof vodka, which is NEVER the move.  
> Anxiety: Several times throughout the chapter, Isra is described as having breathing issues and counting breaths to get her breathing under control to undoubtedly avoid an anxiety attack. After her "Pride" conversation with Eskild, she throws up in the bathroom  
> Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms: Nothing specific, but a very general theme for this chapter. I've always admired SKAM for their accurate portrayal of a queer male relationship. With that being said, a lot of Isra's personal experiences are based off of experiences that queer women (including me and several friends of mine) have had. Sometimes, being a queer woman in a world that was never meant for you is a very difficult and lonely road to walk, and especially as a younger person, so much of it feels like a life or death situation.  
> ***Unwanted Sexual Contact: When Ely confronts Isra about her sexual orientation, he brings up her past sexual relationships with Anders and Elias and grabs Isra's ass. He leaves before it goes any further. 
> 
> TDJLUS PLAYLIST: https://open.spotify.com/user/frutescence/playlist/23gWLXyVchgZGoYdYOmgsw
> 
> Songs Used: 
> 
> Good People Do Bad Things - Prelow (Title)  
> SUBURBIA - Troye Sivan  
> And I Love Her (MTV Unplugged Version) - Paul McCartney  
> Tongue Tied - Grouplove
> 
> I'm also SO incredibly sorry about the long time delay. It's crazy to me that it's been over a YEAR (??? HOW). I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the anon who sent me THE nicest message about this fic on tumblr 12 months ago (who I replied to with the first ~700 words of this chapter) and the anon who messaged me 5 months ago asking whether or not I'd abandoned this fic who I then told I'd have it up sometime in the next week (you both made my whole life). So many things have happened this year it's been such a whirlwind adventure. I said once that I'd write this fic until it was done, though, and I meant that. 
> 
> Endless thanks to everyone that's commented on this fic or sent me messages on tumblr. You guys are the reason it is still being written and will be written to its completion. Comments and messages make my whole day/week/month/year. I hope everyone has a wonderful day, I'm going to bed but I love you all to the moon and back <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr @ frutescence.tumblr.com


End file.
